


Cloudburst

by Kupow



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Car Racing, F/M, Initial D references, Mr. Right References, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 48,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23505811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kupow/pseuds/Kupow
Summary: Cloudburst (noun): A sudden, very heavy rainfall, usually local in nature and of brief duration. Often associated with thunderstorms and capable of creating flash flood conditions.Summary: Ann Takamaki is a rising star in the world of fashion; a model who graced the cover of Vague before her 21st birthday. On the cusp of breaking out internationally, unforeseen circumstances force her career to take a major step back when she is forced to move to Suzuka City, a small town noteworthy only for the Suzuka Circuit raceway. She becomes Shujin Motorsports’ newest ‘racing queen’ in an effort to claw her way back into fashion.She meets Ren Amamiya, a mechanic with a criminal record, on a rainy night. The encounter changes her life, and forces the mechanic to start living again.Written for Shuann Week 2020 (Rain/Snow). Originally intended to be a ~5k word oneshot inspired by a picture of Ann dressed in the P5D ‘racing queen’ outfit, it turned into this monster.Thanks for giving this a try! NSFW warning for chapters 3 and epilogue.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Takamaki Ann, Kurusu Akira/Takamaki Ann, Niijima Makoto/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Takamaki Ann
Comments: 12
Kudos: 79
Collections: Shuann Week 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Race queen/Racing queen/Grid girl: The pretty/sexy women you see at motorsport events, frequently posing with drivers/cars and umbrellas.
> 
> Super GT: Super Grand Touring, a type of auto racing.
> 
> Heel-toe: Advanced driving maneuver used in performance driving. Involves operating the accelerator/brake pedals simultaneously while using the clutch with your left foot (as usual).
> 
> Yankii: Derogatory term for delinquent

April 3, 20xx 

The sheets of rain falling on Suzuka City created a constant white noise, even inside the cafe where Ann Takamaki, aspiring fashion model, sought shelter inside.

 _Former_ aspiring fashion model.

Ann Takamaki sighed, pushing her half-finished latte back and forth on the lovingly polished table. She always hated rain, especially when it was like this. It wasn’t raindrops. Drops were polite. Manageable. No, this was a full on ‘fuck you’ from the sky, as if a river had somehow been redirected into the air, and then straight down onto the blonde woman. It forced her to run inside this shop rather than continuing her walk to her new home. She grimaced at that word. Home. That’s what this place was, apparently.

She glanced at her phone again, waiting on a call from her agent and best friend, Shiho Suzui. The blonde girl only recently arrived in Suzuka City for her new job - earlier in the day, in fact. Within an hour of her arrival, Ann texted Shiho, subtly hinting at her displeasure:

**AT: Get. Me. Out. Of. Here.**

There were several things wrong. First, the city was much smaller than what she was used to, having spent the entirety of her career to this point being based out of Tokyo. Many of the things she was used to having just weren’t as readily available. Second, it was also much more spread out, so the amenities that _were_ there were mostly out of practical walking distance of the apartment Shiho found for her.

But the worst part about it was how people _gawked_.

From the moment she arrived, she received disapproving stares from older women, jealous stares from younger women, and leers from men of all ages.

It was bad enough in Tokyo, but at least there she could disappear into the anonymity of the city without too much trouble. Here, most people hadn’t seen blonde hair and blue eyes before in person. And certainly not blonde hair and blue eyes on a professional model, who had graced the cover of _Vague_ magazine before her 21st birthday.

So here in this ‘city’, Ann felt like a zoo animal on display.

She looked up in irritation as someone slid into the seat across from her uninvited. It was one of the locals, wearing an ill-fitting white suit with a purple shirt and black tie. In Tokyo, his outfit would have been considered good for a magician or car salesman. Here, it meant this idiot was probably some middle-manager in one of the manufacturing plants nearby. Ann scowled. In her line of work, she learned long ago the dangers of giving a friendly smile to certain types of men. The local man didn’t take the hint. He grinned at her in a way that made her skin crawl; several of his friends seated a few booths away looked on with interest.

He spoke in stilted English.

 **“Hey. Ba-by. Want go dance?”** He asked, miming awkwardly before pointing at himself. **“Hisamoto Sugimura.”**

Ann rolled her eyes, speaking in Japanese with a perfect Tokyo dialect. “No thanks. I’m waiting for a phone call.”

Sugimura looked startled but recovered quickly. “Oh. Heh. You speak Japanese? That’s great. The offer stands, you know? You look like you’re new. From the city, right? A sexy thing like you shouldn’t be all alone. There’s this club called the _Velvet Room_. Maybe I could show you around--”

Ann’s frustration boiled over. Normally she wouldn’t be so rude. But she was sitting in this cafe - _Leblanc,_ she thought it was - in a city she didn’t want to be in, waiting to start a job she didn’t want, wearing a worn out hoodie from her high school days without any makeup on because she thought that looking this way was ‘shields up’ enough to avoid _precisely_ this sort of conversation.

“Listen. Let me spell it out for you. No. Never. Not happening. Not in your wildest dreams. This isn’t me playing hard-to-get, this isn’t me being coy, this isn’t me being demure. This is me telling you to get out of this booth. The closest thing you’re going to get from me that’s ‘hot and wet’ is going to be this latte on your crotch.”

The man turned an interesting shade of purple that seemed to match his shirt nicely as he got out of the booth, returning to his jeering friends.

The owner of the cafe looked on with some concern. Sugimura was known to have a temper.

Ann’s phone rang.

 _‘Thank God. Finally.’_ Ann tapped to accept the video call and went to the bathroom to talk. She didn’t want the magician or any of his friends to eavesdrop. It didn’t look like they were interested, though - several of them were at the bar, talking to the barista, a man in his forties. They were giving him a list of increasingly complex drink orders, occupying all of his attention.

“Shiho, you’ve got to get me out of here. This is awful.”

“Just put up with it for a little longer, Blondie.” Shiho said, frowning. “I know this isn’t the gig you wanted, but it’s the best I could do, considering the circumstances.”

Ann sighed, blowing a stray lock of hair out of her face. ‘Circumstances’ was a nice way of putting it. After her last runway gig, one of the executives at _Vague_ invited Ann out to celebrate a successful show. She accepted, only learning upon arrival that it was a ‘dinner for two’ celebration at a fancy hotel restaurant. Complete with a suite booked for a private ‘after party’.

Although the man didn’t deserve a _polite_ refusal, the model knew that tact would be the best thing for her career. Two things were true of Ann Takamaki - she cared for her dream of becoming an internationally recognized model, and she cared for Shiho.

So she was in the middle of politely declining when the man had gotten physical, grabbing her wrist and telling her that she _owed_ him a ‘good time’, since he was one of her bosses. Unfortunately for Ann’s career (and for the man’s suit) a third thing was true of Ann Takamaki: she often let her heart do the talking. Or in this case, the throwing of fancy imported wine into his face. It hadn’t been easy for Shiho after that to find Ann work. But a ‘racing queen’ for some middling GT team? Who ever heard of ‘Shujin Motorsport’?

“I… ...I’ll try, Shiho. I’m sorry.” Ann said, biting her lip. “I know it’s been tough for you, too. I really blew it, huh?”

Shiho nodded. “Yeah. You missed your chance to break a plate on that fucker’s head, too.”

Ann snorted, laughing. “I love you, you know?”

“I know. Everyone does.” Shiho said, winking. “Look. Go home, do some reading. The best girls in this business actually know as much or more, about the cars than the drivers. Trust me. This can work! If you get enough notoriety, they’ll _beg_ to get you back on the runway.”

“Thanks, Shiho. I’ll do my best.”

Ann got out of the bathroom. She headed for the door, not liking the way the men in the cafe were looking at her.

“Hey! Honey.”

Ann rolled her eyes.

Sugimura smiled, pointing at her latte. “You forgot your drink.”

“...Right. Thanks.” Ann said. She finished it in one gulp and headed out into the rain, opening her umbrella.

Sugimura and his friends waited a few minutes. They exchanged predatory smiles before filing out after the blonde girl.

Sojiro frowned. He picked up the phone.

>>>

Ann squinted. The rain was letting up, but it was still coming down hard enough that it was difficult to see thirty feet in front of her.

...Or three feet, for that matter. That was weird.

She stumbled, dropping her umbrella.

Muttering a curse, she bent down to collect it. The handle kept getting away from her, somehow.

“Hey, honey. Need some help?”

She looked up - it was that magician guy from the cafe, flanked by his friends. He was backlit by the streetlamp above and behind him, making it hard for her unfocused eyes to see.

“I’m.. fffffine.” Ann slurred. Why was she slurring?

_‘You forgot your drink.’_

_‘...Oh, shit.’_ Ann turned - she tried to bolt, but tripped over her own feet.

Sugimura caught her arms, laughing. “Where do you think you’re going, honey? You embarrassed me there. So you owe me. And if you embarrass me, you embarrass my boys. So you owe _them_ , too.”

“No! No…!” Ann mumbled, trying to struggle away. From making headway to shows in Paris to being sexually assaulted in some small town. This wasn’t even a conceivable nightmare for her only a month ago.

Something roared, cutting through the white-noise static of the rainstorm. It never quite stopped; settling down to a deep rumble that Ann _felt_ more than heard.

In her drug-induced haze, Ann blinked, looking up. _‘Thunder…? Or a dragon…?’_

Ann looked up; so were Sugimura and his friends. They all squinted into the blinding glare of xenon headlights, not really able to make out the vehicle that had pulled to a stop in front of them.

As the drugs took effect, Ann couldn’t really register the conversation that happened. She saw angry gestures, Sugimura shoving her into the arms of one of his friends as he moved forward, pointing at the newcomer who had stepped out of his car. It became hard to tell what was reality.

She was sure that Sugimura took a swing at the new guy. She was _pretty_ sure that the new guy just sort of… flowed around the punch. And she was _really_ sure that elbows weren’t supposed to bend that way as Sugimura’s scream pierced through the haze around Ann’s mind.

She was shoved again, this time onto the pavement, as Sugimura’s friends charged at Ann’s savior. Three on one.

Ann tried to scream for help for the good Samaritan; tried to warn him as one of Sugimura’s friends pulled a collapsible baton out of his jacket. She tried to see his face. He slipped in and out of focus as the drugs took full effect; she could only just make out his mouth.

He smirked.

>>>

April 4, 20xx 

“Mrrrrow?”

Ann blinked blearily, waking up to the sight of a very cute tuxedo cat, peering down at her. The cat was upside-down from her perspective, looking down at Ann with a detached mix of curiosity and hunger. He reached out, gently ‘booping’ her on the nose with his white-socked paw, as if asking, ‘are you alive? If not, can I eat you?’

“Miaow.” Ann replied, tiredly. “Still alive.”

The cat murred, satisfied with her answer. He headbutted her forehead affectionately. If not food, then friend. He hopped off the arm of the couch that Ann was lying on. Ann turned on her side, watching the cat walk over to a curious looking contraption - several large metal ‘Wing Wah’ cookie roll tins welded on top of each other, and attached to some sort of mechanism that emptied into a bowl. The cat poked a lever with his paw, and the clearly home-made machine dispensed an appropriate amount of kibble.

Despite her unusual situation, Ann giggled at the adorable sight. She got up, despite her headache, and knelt down beside the machine. It was carefully crafted; seamlessly soldered with the wiring and mechanism perfectly concealed. Curiously, she poked the lever.

No food came out. Frowning, she poked it again.

“It’s on a timer as well. It won’t dispense unless at least four hours has elapsed from the last lever-push. Though if you’re really hungry, I can pop open the tin and give you a spoon.” A deep voice said, dryly.

Ann jumped to her feet. She immediately winced, clutching her head at the sudden motion. “Ow…” She mumbled, looking at the cat’s apparent owner.

He was tall and fit. He wore a black t-shirt, emblazoned with ‘NISMO’ across his chest. He carried two cups of coffee in his bandaged hands. Grey eyes regarded her with the same detached curiosity as the tuxedo cat. His hair was naturally unruly, and it somehow made her want to run her fingers through it to try and tame it. He was cute, too. Even hot. Whoever he was. She blinked.

_‘I have no idea who this is! I’m in his apartment! I was drugged!’_

She frantically started inspecting her clothes. Sweater, zipped. Skirt, on. Leggings, on. Shoes, off.

“You… you took my shoes off!” She blurted out, accusingly.

“...Yes?” He said, cocking his head to the side. “I like this couch, and your shoes were muddy.”

“..I.. you...did you do anything else?” Ann stammered.

For a split second, the man’s face changed from placid curiosity to distaste.

“Yes. I carried you inside, wrapped you in towels and a blanket, and then got coffee from downstairs after waking up.” He said. He then took a sip from a cup, returning easily to his impassivity. “That, or I took you inside, took off _all_ of your clothes, and had my rough, brutish way with you.”

Ann became incredibly cognizant of a prickly, burning heat at the tops of her ears, cheeks, and neck as her mind (un)helpfully provided a picture of what the pretty grey-eyed guy in front of her would look like as he had his ‘rough, brutish way’ with her.

He continued his sarcasm. “After which, I then carefully re-dressed you in your wet clothes, wrapped you in towels and a blanket, and _then_ got coffee from downstairs after waking up.” He waved the other cup at Ann. “Here, miss. You look like you need it.”

Ann mumbled an apology for her quasi-accusation. She approached, reaching for the coffee, until she recalled that she got into this mess because of drugged coffee. She eyed the cup suspiciously.

“Is that really just coffee?”

He rolled his eyes, taking a sip out of that cup, too. “There. Happy?”

“...But now you drank out of that one.” Ann said.

He blinked, looking at her.

She looked back at him. Her lips quirked into a little pout.

He chuckled briefly, a genuine smile appearing on his face.

His smile was beautiful, if fleeting. And the sound of his laugh was like dark chocolate for her ears. Deep and sweet, with a hint of bitterness. She took the coffee cup from him, nodding gratefully as she drank it. If she were still in high school, she might have reacted to the indirect kiss. Instead, she focused on the strangely familiar taste of the coffee.

“So… You stopped those guys?”

“Mm.” He said, the laughter and smile gone as if they were never there. “We talked.”

Ann’s eyes flickered to the bandages wrapped around the man’s knuckles.

He caught her glance. “We had a serious discussion about the nature of consent and responsible drug use.”

“Ah.” Ann said. “And what should I call my savior?”

“Ren Amamiya.” He picked up a backpack from beside a large drafting table. He frowned, stooping down to look for something. “Damnit, Mona… Where…”

“Thank you, then, Amamiya-san. I’m Ann Takamaki. Uhm… where am I, exactly?”

“Suzuka City.” Ren stood up with the baseball cap he was looking for.

Ann rolled her eyes. “I know that. Where am I, _exactly_?” She looked around. They were in an attic, that much was obvious. The drafting table occupied a corner of the place along with assorted parts and tools, all neatly organized on a pegboard or otherwise in bins. Another corner was the sofa she slept on, along with a small television and bookshelf. And finally, the ‘bedroom’ was apparently a hammock, with a portable ‘wardrobe’ where Ren’s clothes hung.

And for some reason, everything smelled a little like coffee.

“The address is 7265-93 Sumiyoshicho.” Ren slung the bag over his shoulder.

“That means nothing to me.” Ann said, furrowing her brow. She detected just a hint of ‘strategic incompetence’ in Ren’s answers. They seemed designed to annoy her and drive her away. By her nature, she was somewhat obstinate - it just made her want to persist. “I’m new to Suzuka.”

“Not my problem.” Ren said. “Look, I need to get to work, so--”

“Oh my god! Work!” Ann exclaimed, her hand covering her mouth. “I’m gonna be late! I look like a mess! Shiho’s going to _kill_ me if I lose this job! And then bring me back to life! And then kill me again! And worse, I’ll never make it to Paris!”

“Well, I--”

“Please! You have to help me! Can you take me to Shujin Motorsports!?” Ann said. She scrambled over to him, looking up at him, clutching the coffee with both hands.

“I.. ..er…” Ren murmured, momentarily caught like a deer in big, blue, Disney headlights. “...Did you say Shujin Motorsports?”

“Yes…?”

He smirked slightly, his eyes sparkling with ironic amusement. It was Ann’s turn to be frozen by an expression. Yes. Both cute _and_ hot.

He tugged on his baseball cap, prominently displaying the ‘§’ emblem that Ann had seen on all of Shujin’s promotional material and technical manuals.

“I think we’re going the same way, Takamaki-san.”

>>>

It turned out that Ren was a Shujin mechanic who lived above Leblanc - his timely intervention last night only occurred because Sojiro recognized the danger and called the young man to return home immediately. Ann bowed low to Sojiro.

“I’m really sorry for the trouble, Sakura-san. Thank you so much.”

“No trouble for _me_.” Sojiro said, glancing at Ren. He shrugged. “I just don’t like seeing that sort of thing in my city, let alone my cafe. Come back any time, Takamaki-san. I’ll make sure those idiots don’t show their faces around here anymore.”

Ann and Ren left the cafe. He led her around to the back lane.

“Where are we going? Isn’t the bus stop down the block?”

Ren shook his head. He knelt in front of a garage door, unlocking a heavy-duty padlock. “You’ll never make it in time if you take the bus. You said you’re one of the new grid girls, right? You can’t show up looking like that. Unless you have a change of clothes on you?”

“I live in an apartment complex on the east side of town, Amamiya-san. We don’t have enough time!” Ann’s state of panic only increased. She was curious, though, why Ren appeared so confident they’d have time.

Ren stood, opening the garage door at the same time. Inside, rested the source of the dragon-like roar and rumble from last night. It was matte-black, with the exception of crimson brake calipers visible through the powder-coated alloy rims. Even sitting in the garage, the lines of the sports car made it look like it was already in motion; it was a dramatic contrast to the placid man standing beside it. At least, until he flashed that little crooked smile at her again; the one that made her heart skip a beat earlier in the attic.

“We’ll _make_ time.”

>>>

“Holy _shit!_ ” Ann screamed, her fingers turning white as she gripped the seat she was (thankfully) buckled into.

The Lotus Evora roared; the tires screeched as Ren drifted the vehicle he lovingly referred to as ‘Arsene’ into a curve, perfectly matching the turn. With a cocky grin, he powered out of it; Arsene roared again, pressing them both back into their seats as the car exploded down the straightaway that followed.

“Can you do that again?!” Ann asked, excitedly. This was _fun._

“What?”

“On the next corner!” Ann shouted, pointing and grinning.

Ren, with a small surprised smile, did exactly that, drawing another exhilarated shout from his passenger. Ren slowed as they neared the Suzuka Police Station. As the car slowed down, it gave Ann a chance to actually look at the interior of the vehicle. She nodded at the steering wheel of the car - in particular, the emblem in the middle of it that read ‘Lotus’.

“That’s fitting.” Ann smiled at Ren.

“Well, yes. Lotus makes the Evora, so…” Ren shrugged.

Ann shook her head. “No, I mean it fits _you_. It’s a lotus. Just like your name.”

For a moment, Ren looked stricken; his expression briefly reflecting pain and grief. It was gone in a flash, though - before Ann could think about it, he regarded her with a mildly amused half-smile.

“You know the other character commonly used to spell my name?”

“What’s that?” Ann sipped her coffee.

“Love.” Ren said, nonchalant.

Ann nearly spat out her coffee; choking, she coughed, thumping her chest. “Er… Anyway, where did you get this car? I don’t know cars very well, but I thought Lotus was a British company?”

Ren glanced at Ann again, surprised. “You’re right. It is a British company… There’s no way I’d be able to afford importing a new one to Japan. I got it in a scrap auction with my brother when I was still in high school. Rebuilt it completely.”

“You have a brother?” Ann asked, curiously. She found that Ren was far more talkative when he drove; she didn’t mind it at all.

“Had.” Ren said, in a way that ended the conversation. “We’re here. Shujin Motorsport.”

Ren parked the car. He and Ann got out. “You have about fifteen minutes before the morning meeting, Takamaki-san.” 

He glanced at her. Her pigtails were disheveled; she had a prominent cowlick in her hair. Her hoody was rumpled, unflattering, and smelled like stale rain. And yet, he still stared.

“You’re staring.” Ann said, a flicker of a smile crossing her lips.

He shrugged. “I was just thinking it looks like you’ll need every second of those fifteen minutes.”

Ann made an expression like an angry cat. She may have hissed. “What?!”

Ren just walked towards the building complex. Ann let the snarky remark go for the moment, jogging to catch up.

“The building’s way bigger than I expected…” Ann said, looking it over.

“It’s a repurposed school.” Ren said, nodding. “It’s more space than we need, but it was cheap. The garage is the gymnasium with a wall knocked down and replaced by garage doors. Morning meeting takes place in one of the classrooms and we do radio calisthenics out on the old track.”

“...Radio calisthenics?” Ann asked, blinking.

“Seriously? Never heard of it? Salarymen and company grunts move around to crappy music? Ah, nevermind. You’re probably off the hook today.” Ren said, shrugging again. “Women’s locker room is by the gym slash garage. See you at the morning meeting.”

Ann noted that an uncaring shrug seemed to be Ren’s most common expression. It _did_ show off his nice shoulders, though.

“Thanks, Amamiya-san.”

>>>

Ann glanced up at the sign above the classroom.

_‘2D…’_

The room was already buzzing when she walked in. It was easy to identify where she belonged - a small group of pretty, reasonably well-dressed girls were chatting excitedly in a corner of the room.

 _‘Semi-casual.’_ Ann noted, happy for her choice of fitted dark-red sweater dress, boots, and belt. Her hair was down, brushed and blown out so that she didn’t look like she spent the night on a sofa. She found herself looking towards the mechanics and engineers, however, trying to find the one person she knew.

Ren sat apart from the others, an island in the back row. His chair leaned against the wall; his feet were on the desk. The brim of his baseball cap was tilted down to cover his eyes. His chair slipped a bit as he drifted off a little deeper, startling - and then settling back to sleep. 

Ann found herself irrationally disappointed that the mechanic hadn’t looked her way. After what he said earlier, she wanted to shove her outfit and looks in his face. She rolled her eyes at herself.

_‘The hell is wrong with me? Just because this is a repurposed school doesn’t mean I should act like an empty-headed girl trying to get a boy to notice me. This is a job. Just do well, break back into fashion, leave this craphole town behind.’_

She approached the girls. “Morning!”

One of them, a little older and clearly not a model based on her interesting fashion decision of graphic tee, huge orange sunglasses, and camera bag, smiled. “Ah. Takamaki-san, of _Vague_ fame! I’m Ichiko Ohya. I take care of PR for Shujin, so I’ll be working a lot with you. This is Mika Narumi, Ayane Watanabe, and Megumi Ito.”

A tired-looking woman with slightly-frazzled hair walked in. She wore a ‘Shujin Motorsports’ racing jacket and held a clipboard. She headed to the front of the room, waiting patiently for a moment.

The chatter continued.

She coughed, pretending to clear her throat.

The buzz intensified.

“HEY! Sit down, and _shut up_ !” She snapped. She coughed again, clearing her throat for real. “Right. Good morning. Hope everyone had a good weekend. We’ve got a few more new faces today.” She said, glancing over at Ann and the other racing queens. An annoyed look - well, a _more_ annoyed look flickered over her face. It seemed like her resting expression was irritation. “I’m Sadayo Kawakami, the team manager. Over there is Shinji Takeda, the crew chief. And there, Ichiko Ohya, the PR manager. Our drivers are Yuuki Mishima…”

A nervous-looking, slender young man raised his hand.

“...And.. ..where the _fuck_ is Kamoshida?” Kawakami sighed. “Nevermind. Anyway, new people. Introduce yourselves.”

Three of the four grid girls stood up, along with a few of the mechanics. Ann noticed that Ren didn’t stand - apparently he wasn’t new, despite the fact that there was a noticeable separation between himself and the others.

“Takamaki-senpai?”

Ann blinked, looking up to see the only promo model who hadn’t stood up looking at her - Mika Narumi.

Mika smiled. “It’s your turn, Takamaki-senpai.”

“Oh. Ah… I’m Ann Takamaki, from Tokyo. Pleased to meet you all, I hope we get along!” She said, smiling brightly. _‘Gotta fake it till I make it…’_

People started murmuring.

“Isn’t that Takamaki-san from _Vague…?_ ”

“No friggin’ way. A _real_ model? Why’s she working for Shujin…?”

“...Hey. Didn’t she come in with Amamiya?”

Kawakami sighed. “Anyway. New season’s starting up. As usual it’s Okayama first, in a month. Everyone should report to their respective manager for their assignments, if you haven’t gotten them via email or text already. Pay attention. We’ve had a lot of personnel changes, so your duties might be different.”

She grimaced.

“Time for calisthenics. New people, you’re off the hook so you can see what we do. You’re in tomorrow, though.”

>>>

The entirety of the motorsports team gathered outside, now dressed in standard-issue t-shirts and track pants. Most were chatting amongst themselves. Again, Ren stood apart, stretching on his own.

Ann and two of her colleagues, Ayane Watanabe and Megumi Ito, stood to the side, watching. Mika was dressed in the same outfit as the others; apparently being a racing queen didn’t exclude her from the routine.

Ohya stood with her charges, alternatively explaining things or taking pictures with her camera.

Ann frowned, watching. “Most of them don’t look very happy about this.”

Ohya rolled her eyes. “Not surprising. Shujin Motorsports used to be a lot smaller before we got purchased by Taro Kobayakawa. It led to some good changes… Like getting this old school as our headquarters, for example. And hiring on you three. In theory, having a better facility means better cars, which means more interested fans. Which means more people to gawk at you girls, which means even more fans, which means more money, which means better cars. In theory.”

“You said ‘in theory’ twice.” Megumi said, frowning, twirling her red-streaked hair around her finger.

Ohya spoke quietly. “In theory, because all of that depends on having drivers who are actually worth a damn.” She pointed. “Mishima-kun over there is a nervous wreck half the time. He’s a hell of a driver in terms of technical skills, but has severe social anxiety and confidence issues. Doesn’t help that his partner isn’t great at playing with others.”

Ann blinked. “Partner? But there’s only one seat in the cockpit…”

Ohya nodded. “You’ll have to read up, Takamaki-san. Kawakami only agreed to have you girls on if you’d actually be decent spokeswomen and not just pretty faces. Super GT races are driven by two drivers. They _have_ to share, and the maximum distance any single driver is allowed to drive is two thirds of the race. There has to be at least one switch during a pit stop. If they go over two thirds, it’s an automatic disqualification.”

“Right…” Ann said.

“But anyway, yeah. In theory. The purchase happened last year, and we’ve been on a losing streak ever since. Haven’t placed within the top fifteen.” Ohya said. “So morale is pretty low... And Kobayakawa’s answer was hiring you three and introducing morning calisthenics.”

Ayane blinked. “And that helps win races?”

Ohya rolled her eyes. “Evidently.”

They watched, as Shujin lined up to start a run around the track. Mika kept looking over at the gate that opened onto the field from the road.

Just before Kawakami blew her whistle, the characteristic sound of a turbo blow-off valve and straight-pipe exhaust announced the arrival of another member of the team. A Subaru WRX STi drove right onto the field, the engine noise ripping loudly through the coffee-can sized exhaust pipe.

Ann blinked. It was loud, but she didn’t _feel_ it, like she did with Ren’s car.

“And here he is.” Ohya muttered. She started taking pictures of the car, and the two men exiting it. “Keroppi Kobayakawa himself, along with our ‘star’ driver, Suguru Kamoshida.”

One was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a profoundly square jaw and unkempt hair that looked like it took hours to make it _look_ unkempt in the way he wanted. He sported a big smile and a Shujin racing team jacket.

Ann stifled a laugh, understanding what Ohya meant by ‘Keroppi’ as she looked at the other man. He was short, fat, and lacked a neck. He really did look like the human version of a frog.

“Ah! Su~gu~ru-san!” Mika sang, waving happily as she ran over to him.

Kamoshida grinned, throwing an arm around Mika. “Hey, Sadayo-chan! Were you gonna make Mika-chan here _run_? Can’t you see? She’s in great shape already.”

Kawakami looked at Kobayakawa.

Kobayakawa smiled. “My nephew’s right, wouldn’t you say? I think Narumi-san’s fine. The rest can go ahead, though.”

The team exchanged looks. Kawakami blew the whistle; they all started running.

Kobayakawa, Mika, and Kamoshida approached Ohya and the other three girls. Kamoshida smiled pleasantly at each of them, shaking each of their hands. His eyes widened at Ann.

“You’re _the_ Ann Takamaki, aren’t you? I can’t believe we managed to steal you away from _Vague_!” Kamoshida exclaimed, grinning. “Welcome to the team. I’m sure you’ll be an asset to us here at Shujin. We should get to know each other.”

“Nice meeting you.” Ann said, politely. She took one look at Kamoshida, immediately guessing his type to be similar to Sugimura; her gut instinct was to not address ‘getting to know each other’. So she changed the subject: she glanced over Kamoshida’s shoulder at the rest of the team. “Shouldn’t you be out there?”

Kobayakawa laughed. “Ah, Takamaki-san. Suguru-kun doesn’t need to join them. He’s in tip-top shape, as you can see.”

Kamoshida waved a hand with a confident grin. “No, it’s fine. They’re new, right? They could use a demo from the top dog. Hey! Sadayo-chan! Can we do a sprint?”

Kawakami hid her eye-roll. It was the only exercise that Kamoshida ever wanted to do, claiming that his greatest strength was twitch reaction time and explosive power. In truth, it was because he just lacked the endurance.

Ann and the girls watched as they lined up, Kamoshida included, for a 200m dash - the man won handily, to Mika’s applause, joined by Ayane and Megumi. Ann politely joined in as well, but her eyes searched for Ren. He was obviously fit; he managed to come out on top in a three on one fight.

He crossed the line at around the middle of the pack. He didn’t seem to be breathing very hard. Ann frowned, thoughtfully.

He briefly made eye contact with Ann; a brief, sardonic smile crossed his lips before he returned to his usual routine of staring at nothing.

>>>

At lunch, Ann sat with the other new girls, and Ohya.

Ohya finished her onigiri as she looked at the new girls. “Well. Thoughts, so far?”

“Are we going to be spending most of our time here?” Ann asked, curiously. “It doesn’t seem like there’s a whole lot for us to do.”

“There isn’t a lot right now, true. You’ll study up on the cars, drivers, and culture. You should also keep up with the routine you do to keep looking the way you do.” Ohya said. “There’s going to be a few shoots and promotional events around town. Shujin Motorsport is relatively new, so the focus at the start is going to be trying to get some local support. If we get big, you’ll start traveling around the country more; we’ll all get busier. More photoshoots and promos, etcetera. Fan events.”

“Hm. More like being an idol than a model?” Ann asked, curiously.

Ayane laughed. “I hope not. I can’t sing worth a damn.”

Megumi shook her head. “I was on that track for a while until they started trying to control my love life, Ann-chan. I’m new here, but I did some stuff for a motorcycle racing team before. It’s not as strict as being a pop idol. Probably not as strict as being a fashion model, either.”

Ayane perked up. “Ah, that’s right! What was that like, Ann-chan?”

“Ah… As you say, Megumi--”

Megumi smiled. “Call me Megumin. It’s the one thing I kept from my idol days.”

Ann grinned. “Alright. Megumin. But it’s as you say. There weren’t any defined _rules_ , but most of the companies I modeled for would want a specific look. So that meant I had to manage my training, diet, and routine appropriately. It wasn’t so hard, though. I was based in Tokyo… Most of my work was in the surrounding area. My agent was just starting to help me make some international inroads… …”

Ann stopped, not really wanting to talk about how she lost everything in a single night by refusing to put out for overpriced steak and wine.

“But that’s not really important.” Ann said, waving a hand.

Ayane pouted. “Awh. Ann-chan, I wanna hear about Tokyo--”

“Ann- _senpai_ is what you should be calling her, actually.” Mika said, joining the group. She was on Kamoshida’s arm. “I’m surprised you don’t recognize her, Ayane-chan. She was one of _Vague’s_ top models up until recently.”

“Really?! Cool…”

Ann shook her head, waving her hands. “It’s really nothing!”

Kamoshida and Mika sat down at the table. The driver smiled at Ann. “Must be pretty hard making the switch. I bet Manager-chan’s making you study all sorts of stuff.”

“Ah, yeah. She gave us a bunch of materials to go over. There’s a promotional event in two weeks, so I have to play some catch up.” Ann said, deciding to ignore the disrespectful, overly-familiar way that the man referred to Kawakami. The event was local, taking place at the seaside. Photoshoot, meet and greet, and interviews. She was expected to know everything about the cars and drivers, and even offer a somewhat educated opinion on the upcoming race in Okayama.

“You know, I bet I can make that easier for you.” Kamoshida said, resting his broad chin on his hand. “I can take you through--”

“Ah, Suguru-san…” Mika said, smiling. “Why don’t you let me take care of that? We don’t have to know as much as you, and it might get a little confusing for Ann-senpai.”

“Hm? Ah, fine.” Kamoshida said, a brief frown on his face.

Ann looked past him, seeing Ren in the corner of the cafeteria. He was on his own, again. His lunch was finished; he appeared to be making a sailboat out of the leftover foil lid. She smiled slightly, wondering if he was going to take it to a stream or river ‘after school’.

Kamoshida followed her glance. He scoffed.

“Ah. That’s right. Amamiya gave you a lift today, didn’t he?”

Ayane perked up. “Oh! Seriously!? That hot loner?!”

Ann felt her face grow warm. “He… ...we just ran into each other, and I don’t have a car. So he offered to give me a ride today. That’s all.”

Megumin grinned. “Lucky you. He’s the guy with that souped-up Evora, right? That’s why everyone knows you came here with him. We could hear the car arriving from the other side of the building.”

“That guy’s bad news.” Kamoshida said.

“What do you mean?” Ann asked, frowning.

“He has a record.” Kamoshida added, glaring in Ren’s direction. If the mechanic noticed, he paid no attention.

“I heard it was for car theft.” Mika said. “Seems risky to allow someone like that to work for a motorsports team.”

“That’s true.” Kamoshida shrugged. “My uncle didn’t even want to hire him. But Shinji Takeda refused to sign on unless we made a spot for Amamiya, too. Takeda’s a hard ass, but he’s one of the best out there... I just can’t figure out why he cares so much about Amamiya. The guy barely does anything around here. And, he’s so ungrateful that he barely talks to Takeda. Hell, he doesn’t talk at _all_ to anyone else.”

Mika wrinkled her nose. “He’s really stuck up for a crook.”

The irony of criticizing Ren for being hired due to his relationship with Takeda was completely lost on Kamoshida, the nephew of the team’s owner.

 _‘A stuck up crook who fights off three guys for a stranger? And then brings her coffee in the morning?’_ Ann thought. _‘That doesn’t really fit…’_

>>>

“This guy is _super_ weird, Shiho.” Ann said, speaking to her friend and agent via video chat from her apartment, at the end of her first day. “He let me sleep on his couch, but also got me coffee, drove me home to get stuff for work, and then even got me there on time... But apparently he has a record? He was a car thief or something. But he has a cat, and he built him this automated feeder thingy and water fountain… I mean, a guy who does that for his cat can’t _possibly_ be that bad, right?”

Shiho raised an eyebrow, a wry smile on her face. She held her cup of tea with both hands as she studied Ann.

Ann frowned. “Hey. Are you even listening? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“So what’s his name, and how badly do you want to bang him?”

“Excuse me?! I so totally _don’t!_ ” Ann exclaimed, her voice rising a few octaves higher as she turned a shade of crimson that nearly matched the brake calipers of Ren’s car. It was true that she thought the mechanic was attractive. But they barely spoke after he drove her to work.

“I literally just asked you how your first day went, and you spent the whole time talking about this guy.” Shiho said, laughing. “Glad to see that you’re at least meeting some interesting people.”

“Interesting’s one way to put it, Shiho.” Ann sighed. “The first guys I met other than Sakura-san tried to drug me. The second guy I met, Amamiya-san, is cute but weird. And everyone at work… It’s basically a Kamoshida circle-jerk. Everyone either kisses his ass or at least lets him do what he wants. They even let him ‘win’ at morning calisthenics, probably because he’s the type who’d throw a tantrum if his spot as the ‘alpha dog’ was ever called into question. It’s like the guy doesn’t even care that he isn’t winning races, so long as Mika clings to him and he gets to keep his little cult. And he's already eyeballing me like I'm a prospective new follower, if you get my drift."

Shiho frowned. “...Hey, Blondie. If it’s really not working out, we can find something else. I want you to be safe, you know?”

Ann shook her head. “Honestly… It’s not like the same things don’t happen in Tokyo. It just caught me off guard to see it in a small town, you know? I’ll stick with it…”

Shiho nodded. She then smiled slightly. “So, anyways. How cute is he?”

“What?!”

“You said the weird guy is cute.”

“... _really_ cute.” Ann sighed, thinking of those grey eyes and that little smirk.

Shiho shook her head, chuckling. “...Hey. It’s not like I have a problem with you dating whoever you want. But if he really does have a record… Well, just don’t get tied up in anything shady, alright Blondie?”

“Right. Thanks, Shiho…”

>>>

April 8, 20xx 

The week passed by uneventfully - Ann studied the materials that Kawakami gave her, but Mika’s notes were a godsend. Kawakami had given her a series of technical manuals and print outs, some of them bordering on textbook-like in nature. Mika’s notes were boiled down, sticking to just the essentials. Perfect for Ann, who wasn’t really that invested in Super GT racing.

Otherwise, Ann’s week was largely spent getting to know Shujin Motorsports, with the ever-present Ohya snapping photographs. There were a few test shoots, where the girls tried on the various Shujin Motorsport outfits. Some were surprisingly tasteful, like a fitted driver’s jumpsuit complete with a racing jacket. And then there was the red/checkered flag mini-dress. And finally, of course, the swimsuits.

Ann just smiled through the wolf-whistles and applause as the men in the garage watched her drape herself over the hood of the Nissan Fairlady Z. She was wearing a ‘sporty’ red and black bikini. ‘Sporty’ with finger quotes due to the plunging cleavage. At least the bottoms were boy-short cut; she wasn’t eager to have half her ass hanging out for the greasy mechanics to stare at.

 _‘Just fake it until you make it, Takamaki.’_ She told herself, winking at the camera while trying not to think of classy runways and modelling clothes and jewelry that were worth the same as (or more than!) the car she was currently leaning on. It wasn’t the material value that got to her, though. It was more the fact that this wasn’t where she thought her career would be at this point in her life - at this time last year, she was already starting to dream of shows in Paris, modeling in front of the who’s who of fashion, not gearheads wearing overalls. 

It irked her slightly that one gearhead in particular was never amongst the spectators. For a guy who was supposedly hired for reasons relating to nepotism, Ren was always working - and seemingly always working on something different. Ann rarely seemed to be in the same space as him, and when she was, he was quickly off to another project.

Ann accepted a jacket from Ohya, covering her bikini-clad body while they prepared for the next shoot. She walked over to the refreshments table, where Kamoshida was pouring himself a coffee.

“Oh, Ann-chan! You looked _great_ .” Ann winced. To Kamoshida, anything human, female, and young-looking was '-chan'. Kamoshida's grin just a millimetre away from becoming a leer. Ann tugged the front of her jacket closed. He was getting increasingly creepy; the prospect of being with a hot blonde was clearing weighing on his mind. Whenever Mika wasn’t around, he was doing his level best to ‘happen’ to be near Ann. His come-ons usually involved him bragging about himself or making a superficial comment about Ann’s looks, followed by a period of awkward silence. It was as if he was confused why she wasn’t throwing herself at him.

“She really did, didn’t she, Suguru-san?” Mika said, slipping her arm through his, neatly forestalling Kamoshida’s latest attempt. Mika was similarly dressed, only she didn’t bother with the jacket between shots. “Ne, Suguru-san? Can you show me how you heel-toe with the Fairlady again?”

“Didn’t I already show you? Besides, Ann-chan and I were talking…” He protested, even as Mika led him away. The woman gave Ann a little smile.

Ann sighed, nodding gratefully. She glanced up as Shinji Takeda grabbed a bottle of water. He was a grey-haired, severe looking man. He nodded curtly to Ann before starting to walk away.

“Ah! Takeda-san…”

 _‘What the hell am I going to say?!’_ Ann thought frantically. _‘Does Ren really have a record? Does he like blondes? Why am I thinking of him as ‘Ren’?!’_

“Er.. I noticed that Amamiya-san never seems to be working on the same thing?” Ann asked. She saw the grey-eyed mechanic walking towards Shujin’s spare car.

Takeda frowned. The look made her feel like she was facing down a disapproving teacher. He spoke, his voice like gravel. “And why would you care about that?”

“Uhm…” Ann thought quickly. “Kawakami-san said we should be familiar with all the roles of the crew, and not just the drivers. I just noticed that Amamiya-san doesn’t seem to have a defined role.”

The answer seemed to satisfy the crew chief.

“The kid’s a bit of a wildcard for us.” Takeda shrugged. “I ask him to work on whatever project’s stalled or not working well. He just makes it work.”

“What do you mean, he ‘makes’ it?” Ann asked.

“Just watch.” Takeda nodded at a car located in the middle of the garage.

Ren was seated in a vehicle - the spare Fairlady Z, nearly a twin to the one that Ann was posing on minutes earlier. But it was entirely stripped down - no doors, wheels, or much of anything beyond the chassis, engine, seats, and console. His eyes were closed; he was poised in the driver’s seat. His left hand was on the shifter knob; his right hand held a stopwatch.

“What is he doing?--!”

He burst into motion; his left hand rapidly shifted through the gears as his left foot depressed the clutch. The sound of the shifter was like a bolt-action rifle in the absence of the engine noise. His left hand slid around the knob rapidly, not losing a second as he took the car through its gears.

His eyes opened at the final gear. He frowned.

Ann watched in fascination as he repeated the last shift a few times. Then, even from where she stood, she could see his grey eyes light up - like they had when he was driving Arsene. He exited the car, sliding underneath it with his tools. When he reappeared, he seemed to have put his mask back on, looking slightly bored and mostly uncaring. Ann resisted the urge to hide behind Takeda as Ren approached them.

Ren tossed the stopwatch back to Takeda. “It’s fixed. Kamoshida won’t have a problem with it now.”

Takeda caught the watch. “Do you need to check it?”

“No.” Ren said. “But Mishima’s going to need to practice on it. He’ll be used to less forgiving tolerances.” He glanced at Ann.

“Ah… Amamiya-san. .. er.. … nice weather we’re having.” Ann said, awkwardly looking at the ground. She self-consciously tugged at the jacket she was wearing, but made no move to zip it up. She peeked up at him to see if he was stealing a glance or not.

“Mm.” Ren replied, noncommittal. He walked past them. Ann pouted briefly.

 _‘It’s like I might as well be a cabbage or a daikon… doesn’t he care what I’m wearing?’_ It was almost insulting. Ann turned, going to speak with Ohya about the next series of shots.

Ren glanced over his shoulder. The jacket ended _just_ above the model’s hips, leaving a great view of her bikini-clad ass. He watched her leave, but flinched as he made eye contact with Takeda. The crew chief smirked.

Ren scowled at him, quickly turning away.

Takeda rolled his eyes, hiding his amusement by taking a sip of his water.

>>>

April 15, 20xx 

It was the day of the promotional event at Chiyozaki beach, near Suzuka City. It was warm for mid-April, with temperatures in the low to mid twenties. At the very least, this meant Ann and her colleagues didn’t have to smile through cold and damp weather while wearing swimsuits. They just had to smile through awkward conversations and hover hands from otaku.

She sighed inwardly, watching as Ohya accepted another payment for a picture and greeting. This time from a nervous looking salaryman.

 _‘This feels like modelling’s answer to the drive-through window.’_ Ann thought at first. But that wasn’t fair, she knew. Ayane and Megumin truly looked like they were having a good time, and Mika was a consummate professional. And some of the fans looked like this was completely making their day… there were even a few kids.

_‘I promised Shiho I’d make the best of it. If I do well here, I might be able to claw my way back onto the runway. Just need to do my best! I’m still young enough to have a shot at Paris.’_

She posed for a picture, managing to not cringe as the salaryman did better than a hover hand. He actually put his arm around her waist.

Ann tensed, feeling his hand start to slide distinctly _down._

“That’s not for sale.” Ren deadpanned, as he casually horse-collared the man from behind. He had appeared out of nowhere like a ghost.

“I… I wasn’t!” The man stammered.

Ren twisted his fingers in the man’s jacket, saying nothing as he tightened his grip.

The man’s right hand drifted towards his open coat.

Ren was faster, slapping the man once to stun him before extracting a _balisong_ knife and a black ski mask from the fan’s breast pocket, along with several zip ties.

With a graceful flick and snap of Ren’s wrist, the butterfly knife whirled and flashed open. Ren looked at it scornfully - it was cheaply made, but clearly meant to be flashy and intimidating. He threw it into the ground, stabbing the blade into the sand.

“So what was the plan, genius? Follow her to the parking lot? Then somehow kidnap her in broad daylight?”

“T… Takamaki-sama!” The man screamed, suddenly, lurching for her. Ren’s grip was iron, but Ann recoiled all the same - partly due to the lunge, and partly due to the wild expression in his eyes. The man started struggling, flailing at Ren’s face and body. “I’ve always loved you! Haven’t you always loved me?! The way you look at me from those pictures in _Vague…_ those smiles were mine, weren’t they?! Why are you dressed like this!? Why are you a whore for everyone?! It isn’t right! If you’re going to be a slut for them, then I might as well—”

In a flash of movement, the man was on his back in the sand, the wind knocked out of him. Ren was casually zap strapping his wrists together; the black ski mask was already stuffed in his mouth. Ann stared, her mouth gaping. She hadn’t actually seen what happened despite looking right at Ren.

Ren immediately stood and walked away.

“W-wait! Amamiya-san—“

Ohya put a jacket over Ann’s shoulders, shaking her head. She nodded at two approaching police officers.

“Amamiya works security for us too sometimes, but when stuff actually happens he doesn’t stick around. The police always look at him like he’s a suspect. I’m surprised he even took it this far.” Ohya said, glancing at the zip ties and ski mask stuffed in the man’s mouth.

“Ah… yeah.” Ann mumbled. “Hey, I’m fine, really. Aren’t we supposed to do those interviews?”

They were. Ann was led over to the two main cars of Shujin Motorsports, where Kamoshida and Mishima were just finishing up. Rather, _Kamoshida_ was finishing up. Mishima mostly stood there, staring at his feet.

“Ah, Ann-chan! Are you alright?” Kamoshida asked, concerned. He put his arm around Ann’s shoulders. “I heard about what happened. Bad enough about that crazed fan, but Amamiya took things a little far.”

Ann shrugged his arm off, irritated at the obvious attempt to sneak in during a perceived moment of vulnerability. It was as if Kamoshida took all of his moves out of a pickup artist’s playbook. “He was doing his job.” Ann said, simply.

Kamoshida sighed. “That may be so. But that guy’s pretty dangerous… Ah. Anyway, time for interviews, right? Have fun, Ann-chan. Mika and the rest are over there.”

Mika smiled pleasantly at Ann. “Ah! Senpai! Here, you should go first.” She lowered her voice. “Usually, the easier questions are at the start anyway, and everyone’s interested to meet the girl who’s new to motorsport.”

Ann smiled, nodding. “Thanks, Mika-san.” She stepped forward, standing beside the interviewer - a man holding a microphone. A video camera was trained on her, with Ohya nearby taking pictures. All around them, the Super GT fans gathered, curious.

“Ah. Ann Takamaki-san, yes?” The interviewer asked.

Ann smiled. “That’s right! Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine! So, how are you enjoying being one of the newest racing queens on the Super GT scene?”

“It’s been great!” Ann said, smiling enthusiastically. “Everyone’s been really supportive in helping me make the transition from runway modeling.”

“That’s great! Now, is it true that Shujin Motorsports is based out of an old school? What’s that like?”

The blonde flashed a charming grin at the interviewer. “Well, I--”

“We love you, Takamaki-saaaan!”

Ann waved at the boisterous otaku with a little laugh, before continuing. “It’s actually pretty appropriate. I’ve been studying Super GT and the cars we use every day, so it really is like going to school.”

“Oh, really? In that case, what do you think about your team’s chances? Which cars are you fielding?”

Ann brightened. Mika’s notes were spot on. “We’re going to be racing with the Nissan GT-R R35! Our mechanics have been working really hard on the cars, and I think we’ll have a great showing. The power output has been improved, but we’re still within the six hundred horsepower limit…”

Ann continued speaking for a while, rattling off the specifications and her opinions of their chances. She slowly trailed off, noticing the strange look everyone was giving her, including the interviewer. In the background Ren watched, shaking his head slowly. He glared at Mika.

“Er… Takamaki-san, you’re describing specifications and cars for the Super GT500 series… Shujin only fields a team in GT300.” The interviewer said awkwardly. “Your cars are Nissan, but they’re the Fairlady Z, not the GT-R…”

Some of the more car-crazy otaku started shouting.

“Hah! She’s just a fake!”

“Go back to Tokyo!”

“At least she’s hot, right?”

Kawakami hissed at Ohya. “Get her out of there! Mika, take over!”

Ohya hurriedly guided Ann away to the jeers of the surrounding fans, who were quickly placated by Mika.

With a winning smile and friendly laugh, Mika waved at everyone. “Now, now. Go easy on her! She’s new to all of this. Let me tell you all about our cars and drivers this year, everyone!”

Suddenly, the runways of Paris seemed that much further away.

>>>

Ann paused outside the club, looking up at the sign.

 _‘The Velvet Room…_ _Sounds like a strip club. And not a good one, either.’_ Ann thought, darkly. She glanced at the girls in line for the night club. Apparently, her choice of a high necked, backless dark-blue halter top and black skirt was actually somewhat on the conservative side for this place. She thought about turning right around to go home.

Megumin caught her elbow, approaching from behind. “Ann-chan! You made it!”

“You know, I don’t think this is a great idea. I should go study anyway, I--”

“Come on, girl. You need this.” Megumin said, shaking her head. “I know Kawakami chewed you out, but you can study tomorrow. Tonight, you need to vent.”

“Isn’t Narumi going to be there?” Ann asked, dubiously. After what she pulled, she wasn’t ‘Mika’ anymore in her mind.

“Yeah. But she’ll be too busy trying to stop Kamoshida from staring at everyone else’s ass.” Megumin said, shaking her head. “Seriously. I can’t believe that snake did that to you.”

Ann bit her lip, quietly seething as she remembered her discussion with Kawakami.

 _‘Seriously? What the fuck did you do to get on Mika’s shit list already?’_ Kawakami had asked, the moment they got back to Shujin. _‘She only starts pulling that crap when she thinks someone’s a threat. But at the end of the day, it was_ **_your_ ** _responsibility to make sure you read up on the correct stuff. And now Ohya can’t use you for a while, not until the furor on the net dies down a bit. Super GT otaku are merciless, but their memory is short. For now, just… study. Study and take this seriously.’_

“...It’s still my fault, at the end of the day.” Ann said, shaking her head. “People tried to pull that shit on me in Tokyo, too. I just saw through it there because my parents are fashion designers and I learned early on how cutthroat it can be. I don’t know why I didn’t expect it here.”

Some part of her mind chimed in a remark about how compelling grey eyes and a nice set of shoulders had been distracting her. She shoved that part of her brain far, far below the surface. The last thing she wanted to do was think of Ren Amamiya.

Earlier in the day when she left the promotional event in shame, she spotted him in the parking lot - he was talking to a slender, pretty woman with more than a passing familiarity. She had a faint blush on her cheeks; her reddish-brown eyes kept darting around the ground with embarrassment. And Ren actually _smiled._ That was _all_ Ann had needed.

_‘Maybe Megumin’s right. Maybe I do need to get my mind off of everything. Looks like he has a girlfriend anyway... Or at least someone he’s interested in.’_

They met Ayane, and went into the club.

It actually _was_ fun for awhile - the three girls danced together, ignoring the advances of the men in the place. They weren’t there for that, tonight. They were there for drinks, for dancing, for venting.

Ann sat down to take a break. Someone immediately moved to join her.

“Seat’s taken.” Ann said, without looking up.

Kamoshida grinned. “Yeah. By me.”

Ann bit her tongue - she couldn’t afford to be rude to the ‘star driver’ of Shujin. “Kamoshida-san. Good to see you. Where’s Narumi?”

“Ah, she went to the bathroom.” Kamoshida said, shrugging. “Are you here alone?”

Ann shook her head. “I’m here with Ayane and Megumin.”

“It’s good that you have friends.” Kamoshida said, nodding. “Especially after today. That was hard to watch.” He said, sympathetically. “I’m sure you’ll recover, though.”

“Thanks.” Ann said, sipping her vodka cranberry cocktail.

“You know. Friends are important.” Kamoshida said. “I heard a bit of your story from friends of _mine_ . Some _Vague_ exec got a little full of himself, huh?”

Ann blinked. “..Yes. How did you…?”

“I’m well-connected.” Kamoshida said, moving closer to Ann. He smiled, putting an arm around her. “I think you’re wasted here. You belong on the runway. With the people I know, I bet I can get you back there. We… just need to be a little _friendlier_ with each other. You know…?”

Ann wished she had done her hair up. She felt nauseous as he started to twirl her locks around his fingers.

“Friendlier.” Ann said, flatly.

“Yeah. I mean, we could start by getting out of here. I’ll ditch Mika, and you can come over to my place and show me how Tokyo girls party--”

Ann’s answer took the form of a drink thrown in his face. She slammed her empty glass down on the table, her eyes alive with rage. “If you really knew my story, _creep_ , you should have known how this would turn out. Touch me again, and you’ll regret it.”

She stalked towards the door.

Kamoshida wiped at his face. He smirked, seemingly unbothered. “Your loss! I’ll see to it that you don’t go anywhere in _this_ world, either. Where do you think you’re going, anyway? It’s pouring out there!”

Ann didn’t bother turning, just gesturing sharply in a way that let the driver know how little she cared about any of that.

The bouncer got out of her way quickly, seeing the look on the blonde’s face.

Ann barely noticed the sheets of rain pouring down on her, instantly soaking her to the skin. She didn’t care. She started walking home, her hands shaking.

_‘That’s it. I’m finished. I just threw a drink in his face. I’m going to show up to work on Monday, and I’ll be fired. I’m going to be that aspiring model who works in a Starbucks, who ‘totally has a gig coming up’, but it’ll turn out to be an advertisement for a cosplay cafe and they’re going to make me wear some kind of weird ass dominatrix slash cat costume with pink gloves and a whip, and I’ll be so desperate for money that I’ll actually consider it, and--’_

A car pulled to a stop beside Ann. She turned slowly, seeing the distinctive lines of Ren’s Evora. The fact that she hadn’t heard him drive up was a sign of how distracted she was. 

The whine of the power window winding down was barely audible in the torrential downpour. Ren looked at her, staring incredulously.

“The hell are you doing walking around out here like that?”

“...Not wearing a dominatrix outfit.” Ann mumbled. Again, Ren had appeared out of nowhere to save her in the middle of a rainy night.

“...Well. You’re not wrong.” Ren said, looking at Ann strangely. “Want a lift?”

Ann nodded; she got into the car.

Ren reached into the vestigial rear seats, fishing a clean towel out of a gym bag. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Ann said, trying to dry off.

Ren started driving. “I need to make a couple stops, first.”

“Sure…” Ann said, numbly. She stared at the dashboard despondently. _‘What does a cat-dominatrix even say? Mrrraaaw? Miaaaow? Mee-Ouch?’_

She sat there, her hair a bedraggled, tangled mess. Her outfit clinging to her. She shivered.

Ren sighed. He turned the heat on, aiming the vents at Ann. “Want to talk about it?”

Ann looked at him, wide-eyed with shock. He was actually _initiating_?

“Fine. Don’t.” Ren said quickly, shrugging.

“Er, no! I just… You’re always so nice to me, but you rarely say very much.” Ann said.

Ren gestured at her in her soaked and miserable state. “If someone looks as down as you do, I’m pretty sure it’s a capital crime to _not_ be nice. Somewhere in the realm of being mean to a kitten wearing a bow tie. So what happened?”

“I.. ...well. Kawakami chewed me out.” Ann said, sighing. “She said if I was taking this seriously, Narumi wouldn’t have tricked me. And then I threw a drink in Kamoshida’s face just now. He tried to trade a professional favor for a sexual one.”

Ren was quiet for a while. “Well… Do you want my honest opinion?”

Ann looked at him. His eyes were on the road. “Sure.”

“Kawakami’s not wrong, Takamaki-san. You’re trying to fake it and you’re fooling most of us, but not me, and definitely not Kawakami. If you keep treating this like it’s just a stepping stone, then you won’t get anywhere. I’m not saying that you should be a Shujin lifer. I’m saying that if you want to get ahead in Super GT as a racing queen and use it as a way back into fashion, you have to take it seriously. Looking for shortcuts won’t work.”

“I wasn’t…” Ann started, but trailed off as she realized - he was right. Ever since her arrival, she hadn’t thought of anything other than getting back to fashion as fast as she possibly could, by hook or by crook. That, and a certain grey-eyed mechanic.

Ren shook his head. “You were. If Narumi’s good at one thing, it’s picking out someone’s weakness. That’s why she offered you her ‘notes’. On the plus side, that means she sees you as a legitimate threat. And I think you can be.”

Ann frowned, but nodded. “And the Kamoshida thing?”

Ren glanced at Ann, a little sparkle in his eyes. “Honestly… I think that might have been the best thing you’ve done since getting here.”

“But won’t it be bad for my career? He said--”

“He’s nothing. He’s won some drift races but nothing in Super GT. His technical skills are okay, but he can’t work in a team and he never tries to improve.” Ren said. “Everyone knows it. His ‘connections’ aren’t worth much, either… He just likes to pretend. After he calms down, he won’t tell anyone about the drink in his face. Too embarrassing for him.”

Ann breathed a sigh of relief. Still doubting, though, she looked at Ren. “How do you know all of this?”

“He’s threatened me before, too. I called his bluff.” Ren said, shrugging.

“Really?” Ann asked. “That place is like a cult… I’m surprised you took the risk.”

“I don’t really have much to lose. Ah. We’re here. Hold on a second.”

Ren pulled to a stop in front of a shop. He grabbed a metal bowl from the back seat before he dashed inside through the downpour, returning in just a few minutes.

Ann looked on curiously; the metal bowl now contained tofu floating in water. She gasped. “Oh, awesome! Are we delivering this now? And you’re going to do the thing where you have to go really fast but make sure you don’t spill the tofu?”

Ren blinked. “...What?”

“You know? Like in that anime, _Initial D_. The protagonist has to deliver tofu, but can’t spill the water.”

“Oh, yeah. Exactly. Totally going to do that. High speed driving, no tofu spillage.” Ren said, reaching again into the back.

“Is it a special technique?”

“Very special. Can you keep a secret?”

Ann nodded eagerly.

Ren found what he was looking for in the back. He produced a plastic lid. He made steady eye contact with Ann, his face dead serious.

He snapped the lid over the bowl with the solemnity of a baptism.

“Behold.”

Ren drove off as Ann swatted at his arm, her face red from embarrassment, but grinning despite herself. Laughter from both of them filled the Evora, drowning out the sound of the rain.

>>>

Ann looked around curiously as Ren pulled up to their next stop - a garage. It wasn’t like their workplace; Shujin Motorsports wasn’t open to the public. This place - Phantom Tuning, by the glowing red sign outside - was an automobile repair shop that posted regular hours.

It was well-past closing time, but the mechanic drove his Evora right into the parking lot, and then straight through into an open garage door in the large, warehouse-like building that served as the place’s workshop.

Ann looked out the window of the Evora. There were multiple vehicle platform lifts; several projects were in-progress, with a variety of makes and models in various states of repair. All the lights were on - there was no work happening, but plenty of activity.

Near an empty platform lift, a small folding table had been set up along with multiple chairs. At the table, a tall man with dark blue hair and a pale face carefully sliced and arranged ingredients for a meal. He was surprisingly well-dressed… even over-dressed for the setting, in his button-down shirt and dress pants. Sitting on the table as he worked was Mona, Ren’s cat. Occasionally, the man smiled slightly, saying something - the cat would meow in response, as if they were talking.

Two girls in high school uniforms sat on the chairs, playing video games on portable devices. They were both short; one of them had long, orange hair and over-large glasses, along with over-ear headphones around the back of her neck. The other had her long, violet hair tied back into a high ponytail; her green eyes were sharp and energetic.

Nearby, another young man sported a stereotypical _yankii_ look complete with bleach-blonde hair, yellow tank-top and cargo shorts. He was looking at a leather jacket while chatting excitedly with… ...the brunette that Ren was speaking with earlier. Ann’s heart sank.

Ren turned off the ignition, exiting the car.

The orange-haired girl perked up.

“Ah! Ren-nii’s back! … ...AND HE BROUGHT A GIRL! AN ACTUAL GIRL!”

“What?! For real?!”

“Ah. Unexpected.”

“Shouldn’t someone get her a towel?”

“Wow, Renpai. Looks like something the cat dragged in.”

“Mrrrow?”

Ann nearly got back into the car at the sudden explosion in activity as people (and cat) crowded around her. Mystified, she was led off by the brunette and the orange-haired girl as Ren was confronted by the bleach-blonde, the tall, slender young man, and the pint-sized girl with violet hair.

“Er, sorry, but where…?”

The brunette smiled. “Ah, my apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just rare that Ren brings anyone around, and you look soaked through. We have a shower here, and I think I might have something that will fit you. I’m Makoto Niijima.”

Ann glanced at her outfit. Black t-shirt with rips in it, loosely sewn together by thick laces. Leather choker. Studded belt. Dark blue skirt. Leggings (ripped). Combat boots. Completely unexpected… She was dressed so professionally when Ann saw her with Ren.

“Oh. Uh… that’s generous?”

Futaba smiled, peering up at Ann. “You’re pretty. You been dating Ren-nii long?”

“What?!”

“Oh, so not long. That’s weird. I could have sworn I saw you leaving my Dad’s shop with him the other day…”

“Dad?! And we’re not dating!” Ann said, frantically glancing at Makoto, not wanting to be the ‘other woman’. “We’re…” _‘What_ **_are_ ** _we, exactly?’_

“Yep! My Dad’s Sojiro Sakura, owner of Leblanc. I’m Futaba Sakura.” She said, cheerily. “What’s your name?”

“Ann Takamaki…”

“Great!” Futaba said, as if that was _exactly_ what she wanted to know. She pranced off, taking out her phone.

“Should have given her an assumed name…” Makoto mused.

“...Why?” Ann asked.

“It’s fine.” Makoto said. “She would have gotten it out of you eventually, anyway. Here you go!”

Ann looked at the offered clothes - they were actually fairly ‘normal’ - a white t-shirt and jeans. “Thanks.”

Makoto smiled, waving at the bathroom and shower. “Take your time. We’ll be out in the garage. Dinner’s soon. You should join us!”

Ann sighed. She showered quickly, getting dressed; there was even a dryer and hairbrush, letting her do something with the tangled mess that was on her head. She tied it back into a simple ponytail before walking back out into the garage.

“So where did you go?” The short, violet-haired girl asked.

“To get tofu.” Ren replied, placidly. He was helping the blue-haired man cut ingredients.

“Did the tofu store have a special on blondes?!” She asked, pointing at Ann as she returned to the garage.

“I didn’t ask.” Ren replied, feeding Mona a piece of meat. “I already had her when I got there, Kana-chan.”

The blue-haired man frowned. “I do believe Mona is getting a little chubby, Ren. Perhaps you shouldn’t feed him extra?”

Mona paid no attention, headbutting Ren’s forearm as he worked.

“I don’t think Mona agrees, Yusuke.” Ren said, shrugging.

“What do you mean you already _had_ her?!” The girl known as Kana-chan shot back.

“Erm… hello?” Ann said, waving.

The bleach-blonde turned to her. “Oh, hey. So welcome, si’down, have some food. This is my garage, Phantom Tuning—” His eyes bulged at the sight of Ann. He had the sense she was pretty before - but that was in rain-soaked clothes and with tangled hair. Now, freshly showered…

The man sprang to his feet. He took Ann’s hand, shaking it rapidly. “Hi! Hello! Ryuji Sakamoto, twenty-four years old. I’m--Ouch!”

Ren lightly chopped the back of Ryuji’s head with the edge of his hand, sighing. He pulled him back. “If you can flirt, you can cut vegetables.”

“I.. ...I wasn’t flirting!”

“You’d better not be.” Ren said, raising an eyebrow.

Ann blinked. _‘...Possessive? That’s weird. It’s not like we’re dating.’_

Still made her feel pretty good, though.

Ren sighed, waving at the chairs. “Since you’ve been invited already, presumably by Futaba, Makoto, _and_ Ryuji, you might as well have a seat.”

Ann sat, and introductions were made properly. The tall, slender man was Yusuke Kitagawa - a specialist in custom paint jobs, body work, and detailing. Ryuji was the owner of the garage and a mechanic, like Ren. Futaba and Kaname Takeda weren’t employees, but hung out at the garage regularly. And Makoto…

“Ah! You saw us.” Makoto said, smiling. “I should have introduced myself at the time. I’m Ren’s parole officer.”

“Oh. That’s good.” Ann said. _‘She’s not his girlfriend.’_ She blinked, _actually_ processing what was said. “...Wait, what? Parole officer?”

“Well. Childhood friend, first.” Makoto said, shrugging.

“And the reason why Ryuji shouldn’t be flirting with you.” Ren said, without looking up from the cutting board. “Or staring at your legs. Makoto’s his girlfriend. She was showing me the leather jacket that she was going to give to Ryuji.”

“Oh.” Ann said. That explained the demure expression the brunette had when she was speaking to Ren in the parking lot.

Ryuji startled. “I wasn’t staring!”

Makoto smiled pleasantly at Ryuji. “I trust you, Ryuji.”

“See?!” Ryuji said to Ren, triumphantly.

“Because you know that if you were staring, her legs would be the last thing you ever saw.” Makoto said, her smile becoming slightly chilling.

Ann laughed. Futaba put some music on; Ren wheeled out a large stove and nabemono pot. The stove looked similar to Mona’s automated feeder - cobbled together from spare parts, but extremely well-made. The stove had built-in table leaves around it, so that everyone could have a spot around the pot.

Kaname, close behind Ren, brought out a cooler filled with beer, soda, and canned iced coffee.

As they chatted, there was a certain warmth in this odd gathering of people that put Ann at ease; it was the first time in two weeks where she didn’t really feel homesick. The group seemed happy to have her, eagerly telling stories about how they all met. When they saw how her eyes lit up at stories about Ren, they indulged her, telling her the most embarrassing, surprising things they could think of.

“And RenRen here’s stuck standing outside Leblanc, no shirt, no pants, just a pair of boxers away from being bare-assed naked.” Ryuji crowed, laughing. “With… with Mona under his arm! Still holding the stolen mackerel in his mouth!”

“Wait. Ren-nii or Mona?” Futaba asked.

They all started laughing at the idea of Ren standing there with his usual nonchalance, a fish held between his teeth.

Ren’s eyebrow twitched, but he continued eating quietly.

“And that’s how we reconnected.” Makoto said, smiling as she sipped her soda. “I was assigned as his PO and it was my first day on the job. I hadn’t seen him since he got out, and I thought I was going to have to write him up for indecent exposure.”

“What stopped you?” Ann asked, curiously.

“Well, I was standing there, shocked.” Makoto said. “So he just looked at me, Mona under his arm, and said…”

Ryuji reached over, snatching Ren’s glasses off his face. He quickly put them on, while affecting Ren’s deep voice, complete with the perpetual _ennui_ he tended to speak with. “Hey, Makoto. Cat got your tongue?”

Ann snickered, before bursting into giggles as she regarded Ren.

Ren sighed, shaking his head. He seemed to actually smile as he stood. “Hey, Ryuji. Didn’t you want me to have a look at something while I’m here?”

Ryuji nodded, waving at the office. “Yeah, man. Can you look at the A/C in the office? It’s leaking again.”

Ren left the group and headed into the office, grabbing a toolbox on the way.

Ann turned to Kaname curiously as the mechanic disappeared into the office. “Kana-chan? How did you meet Ren?”

Kaname eyed Ann suspiciously. As if trying to reassure the girl that Ann could be trusted, Mona hopped down from where he previously was sitting (snuggled behind Ren’s back in his chair), and sprang into Ann’s lap, purring.

The violet haired girl sighed. “Ugh. That’s cheating, Mona… Fine. So you’re one of the new grid girls at Shujin, right? You know Shinji Takeda? He’s my dad.”

“Oh. I heard that Ren was hired because of your dad?” Ann asked.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the group.

“Ah… That’s a hella long story, Ann.” Ryuji said, frowning. “But if you’re going to hang with RenRen, it’s probably better if you heard it from people close to him. You know he’s got a record, right?”

Ann nodded. “Everyone at work talks about it.”

“Well, he also had a brother.”

“Mm. He mentioned that.”

The assembled friends exchanged surprised glances at this. Ann blinked, wondering if she had done something wrong.

“Ah, sorry, Ann.” Ryuji continued. “It’s just surprising that he told you already. The guy doesn’t really like to talk about it. Anyway… Ren’s kind of a mechanical savant. He just… _understands_ things. And not just the machinery. It’s more like the underlying patterns… the way things move together.”

“It’s what lets him be the ‘jack-of-all-trades’ guy at Shujin.” Kaname added. “If it weren’t for his record, they’d have wanted to hire him there anyways, whether or not my dad was there.”

Ryuji sighed. “But his brother… well. Akira made all of us look like complete morons. If Ren’s good at machines and movement, Akira just saw _everything_ differently. He was just a couple years older than Kana-chan and Futaba, a couple years younger than me and Ren. Kid was a genius. Anyway, Akira and Ren’s dad walked out on the family when they were little, and their ma died when Ren was just about to graduate high school. Ren worked his tail off after that happened… His dream was to be a Super GT driver, so he went to the local training school in town, the one run by Honda. At the same time, he worked here and with any motorsport team that would take him to make ends meet. It was hard, but they thought they made it when Akira got a scholarship to go to some fancy escalator school in Tokyo.”

Makoto nodded. “We were all so proud of him… Akira was the star of our little family. Both he and Ren were really close to the Takedas, too. Ren for his work, and Akira because he tutored Kana-chan in a few subjects.”

Kana nodded, biting her lip. “Akira was pretty special.”

Ann stroked Mona’s fur, pursing her lips a little in sympathy. “What happened…?”

“Akira got mixed up with the wrong crowd in Tokyo.” Ryuji said, shaking his head. “Being smart doesn’t make you street smart, you know? We kept hearing things. One day, Ren just went up there himself to check on his brother… He tracked Akira down and found him boosting cars to pay off some debt that a gangster in Shibuya tricked him into. It was a bait car. The cops were already on the way, so Ren did what any big bro would do. He shoved Akira out of the car and made him run. He took the fall.”

Makoto pushed her chopsticks around her bowl, her eyes downcast. “It was an election year, so the UFP wanted to crack down on crime for votes. It was his first offense, but Ren ended up going to prison for two years. The hearing was a joke. Akira was so broken up about it that he committed suicide while Ren was in prison.”

Futaba put her arm around Kaname, hugging the girl. She wasn’t crying, but her hands turned white on the metal cup she was holding.

“After he got out, he couldn’t get a sniff at being a driver anymore. No one wanted to give him a chance because of his record. No motorsports team would even take him on as a mechanic let alone a driver. I offered him a permanent position here, but he didn’t want it.” Ryuji said. “So Shinji gave him work wherever he could and managed to leverage his contract into a permanent position for him at Shujin. And now RenRen just… passes the days.”

“No. That’s completely wrong!” Ann shook her head. “There has to be something that can be done. He can’t just give up like that. He didn’t even commit a crime!”

Makoto looked at Ann, surprised at the tears in the blonde girl’s eyes. “That’s kind of you to say, Ann. But we’ve all had this talk with him, in one way or another. He always says he won’t dishonor the memory of his brother by pinning a crime on him. And honestly, the way the legal system is, they won’t overturn a conviction like that unless there’s solid evidence or testimony to the contrary.”

“...Oh.” Ann said. She looked up. “Well, you’d think someone with his talent would find better work. I mean, the things he can do…”

The group looked uncomfortable again.

“Well, it’s his choice, really.” Ryuji said. “He…”

“He thinks that you’ve all probably said enough, wouldn’t you think?” Ren said, returning. He didn’t _look_ angry, but he turned to Ann, shrugging just a little more tensely than before. “It’s getting pretty late. I should probably take you home.”

“Ah. Right.” Ann said. She stood, saying her goodbyes before getting into the Evora. She held Mona on her lap, who was fast asleep. The car ride was spent mostly in silence until they neared Ann’s apartment.

“Say… Can I ask you something?”

He nodded.

“Why do you do what you do?” Ann asked, quietly.

“Why does anyone do what they do?” Ren replied.

“...Well. People do things because they have ambition, or desires. Or because they need to survive.” Ann said. She wilted slightly as Ren looked at her, his expression quizzical, confused. “I… I just mean that you’re really talented! You could do so much, and you just… It’s like you’re just passing the time, Ren.”

His lip twitched slightly. Almost a smile. “Ren?”

Ann blinked. “Ah! Sorry. It’s just that everyone kept calling you that, and--”

“It’s fine.” Ren said, shrugging again. “More efficient, anyway.”

They kept driving on; they pulled up to Ann’s place.

Ann sighed. “Guess I’ll hit the books tomorrow…”

As Ann carefully placed Mona in the backseat and started to get out of the car, she nearly hit her head on the doorframe as Ren spoke.

“...I can help you with that, if you want. Studying.”

“Oh! Ah… I’d really appreciate that.” Ann said, her heart thudding away as this made her completely, irrationally happy.

“Then I’ll come by tomorrow. Goodnight... Ann.”

She somehow became even happier. “Mm. Goodnight…” Ann murmured, watching him drive off.

She realized then, as the taillights of Arsene disappeared into the distance, that her happiness wasn’t irrational at all. She kicked at the ground with her toe, before turning and heading into her apartment with a little smile.

Why shouldn’t she be happy at spending time with the guy she was falling for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re here, thanks for reading! This turned into more of a project than I anticipated, also much more fun than I thought. Other than the picture of Ann in that outfit, other inspirations/influences for this piece include Initial D (of course) and Thunderbolt (a lesser-known Jackie Chan movie). For actual fans of Super GT/motorsport, if you’re reading this, please forgive any inaccuracies - I gloss over a lot/simplify a lot of things in the interest of flow. After all, the focus of this story is of course, ShuAnn. Super GT is just a vehicle (har har) for the story.
> 
> Those of you who read my other stuff are familiar with the two OCs, Shinji and Kaname Takeda. I kept them here because I wanted someone else in Ren’s corner at work, and wanted Futaba to have a high-school aged friend to make it less weird for her to hang out at the garage. I didn’t make Sojiro part of the team at work because I feel that his function is best as someone who’s involved but not involved. That, and I’m fond of the Takeda family, even though they don’t play that big of a role in Cloudburst. Kaname refers to Ren as Renpai here even though they never went to school together - I have no reason for it other than a callback to Going the Distance.
> 
> Apologies to Suzuka City - I'm doing it a bit of a disservice. It's not a tiny town, even though I make it seem that way. As of 2015, there were around 200,000 people there with a population density of 1000 per square km. By comparison, Tokyo has 14,000,000 with a density of 6,400 per square km. That's why in Ann's eyes, Suzuka City is very, very small.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gremlin: Ren’s nickname for Futaba.
> 
> Supercharger: Air compressor that increases pressure of the air supplied to the engine, giving it more oxygen. Lets it burn more fuel, thus increasing engine power. Typically supercharge refers to a belt-drive that compresses the air - a turbocharger does it via turbine.

April 16, 20xx

The next day, Ann sighed as they pulled up to Shujin Motorsports. On a Saturday.

_ ‘This… really isn’t what I had in mind.’ _ Ann thought, trying not to pout.  _ ‘I didn’t get dolled up to go to work.’ _

She gave her reflection in the Evora’s window a forlorn glance as she stepped out of the car. White graphic tee, tied off to show off her midriff. Short-shorts. Nice, strappy sandals. All apparently lost on Ren, who wore yet another motorsport tee with a stylized ‘M’ for BMW’s performance division, along with a pair of worn looking jeans and what seemed to be the only pair of sneakers he owned.

_ ‘At least the jeans fit.’  _ Ann thought, watching him bend down to check something that caught his eye on the Evora. She absently chewed on an arm of her sunglasses, her eyes fixed on his backside.  _ ‘Really well, too.’ _

Ren looked up. Ann quickly whipped the sunglasses away, putting them back on her head. She walked towards Shujin briskly.

“Well! I guess we’ll get started, then? Classroom?” Ann said, quickly. In her haste didn’t notice Ren give her a slow once over as she walked by.

His eyes lingered on the sway of her hips and the straps of the bikini tied over the nape of her neck as he caught up. Mona, perched on his shoulder, stared at him.

“Don’t judge me, furball.” Ren muttered, before catching up with Ann. “No. Not the classroom.” 

Ren led Ann to the second level, but headed in the opposite direction from 2D. Ann realized that they were headed towards the gym, but one level up. Ren stopped at a hallway; the fire door was locked in place. Ann looked down at the floor - there was a keyhole for the floor lock, but a key was snapped off in it.

Ren pushed in the bar twice in rapid succession, followed by a longer push and hold. From inside, there was a soft - _ whirr-  _ and  _ -click- _ as the door unlocked. He pushed it open. Mona hopped off Ren’s shoulder with a little trill, darting inside.

It led into a wide hallway with windows that overlooked the gym; it was supposed to connect the east and west sides of the school, but on the far side of the hallway the door frame was clearly collapsed and prevented egress.

The hall itself looked like it had been converted into a private workshop or office. There was a large drafting table, like the one Ren had at home. A couch against the wall. And yet another hammock strung up in the corner, with a cat condo near to it. Mona was already asleep on the top tier. Parts and tools were organized throughout, and all over the walls were pinned up diagrams and notes. Even the windows were being used as whiteboards - Ren had drawn a schematic of each Super GT track, from Okayama to Motegi.

Ann gasped. “Oh… Wow.”

Ren gestured at the couch and bookshelf. “Everything we’ll need should be there.”

Ann nodded. She found a copy of the binder she was  _ supposed _ to read, sitting down on the sofa as Ren pulled drinks out of a mini fridge.

“This place is amazing. Did Takeda-san ask you to set this up so you can keep an eye on things?”

“No.” Ren said, sitting down beside Ann. “You can skip most of history for now, they rarely get into that stuff with the racing queens. Let’s start with last season, and we’ll get into details from there.”

“Sure,” Ann said. She was far more interested in Ren than the last season. “So then Kawakami?”

“No.” Ren said.

“Then…” Ann started, hopefully.

Ren’s blank expression warmed a little, with the beginnings of a smile. “You’re the only person I’ve ever brought up here, Ann.”

Ann quickly looked down at the binder, with a little smile of her own. “Oh…”

“Now stop stalling.” Ren said, raising an eyebrow.

Ann pouted.

“That won’t work.” Ren said, averting his eyes by busying himself on the Suzuka Circuit schematic.

“Fiiiine.” Ann sighed, grinning.

She could tell he was lying.

>>>

Hours later, Ann woke up slowly to the sight of Mona peering over at her from his cat condo.

“Mrow?” Mona asked.

Ann smiled, reaching up to gently poke the cat’s nose. “Miaow. Still alive, sweetie.”

The cat seemed satisfied, settling back down.

Ann yawned. Apparently she fell asleep while studying, and somehow she had made it to the hammock. Ann put it together that she had been  _ carried _ . It was an odd mix of disappointment and happiness - disappointed she hadn’t been awake, but happy that it happened. The blonde girl heard an odd, but familiar sound - the sound of ratcheting like a bolt-action rifle. She sat up a little, spotting Ren. The hammock creaked quietly.

He was sitting on a racing seat he mounted to a frame on the floor; it was equipped with pedals, gearshift, steering wheel, and small LED readout beside him. There was also an actual video screen, but it was turned towards Ann - it showed the view from inside a Super GT cockpit during a race. He didn’t notice Ann watching - too focused. He rapidly shifted; his feet moved quickly and sharply, depressing the clutch and performing quick heel-toe braking maneuvers as he steered. A little green light on the readout flashed every time he shifted.

A smile slowly crept across her face as she watched him. She liked him like this. It reminded her of a conversation she had with Shiho, about the boy that her friend eventually married.

_ ‘Really? Kurosawa? He seems like a bit of a playboy, Shiho.’ _

_ ‘Ah… well. You haven’t seen him when he’s playing his bass. He actually looks serious… I think that’s when anyone looks their best. When they’re completely focused, doing the thing they live to do.’ _

This was different from what he was doing before, down in the spare Fairlady Z. He seemed alive then, but even that was just a pale shadow of how he looked now. His eyes were lively, sparkling. He smiled fiercely at something on the readout, shifting again, his foot dancing on the pedals.

Ann leaned over further to watch. The hammock creaked again, more precipitously.

Ann shrieked as it flipped, dumping her onto the floor. She immediately sprang to her feet, trying to look like she meant to do that.

Ren sat in his racing seat. He stared blankly at Ann, his eyes wide, jaw agape. The LED readout started flashing red as he missed several turns.

Ann huffed, putting on an air of dignity. “I totally meant to do that.”

Ren burst out laughing. It wasn’t the first time she heard him laugh - she remembered each time clearly, because the sound of it was something worth recounting to her. The first time was when she caught him off guard in the attic; the second time in the car about the tofu. Each time, it seemed subdued; contained.

And this time, it was from the belly, deep, unexpected laughter. The kind that made you double over, that made you shed tears. To Ann, the sight of it was so refreshing from his usual bland or morose expression that she almost forgot that he was laughing at  _ her _ . Almost.

“Hey! Isn’t that enough?!” She snapped, though she had to admit that it  _ was _ pretty funny.

“Haha... you… hammock…” Ren gasped.

Ann smiled despite herself. She walked over to him curiously. “What are you doing, anyway?”

“Ah. Just a basic simulator I came up with.” Ren said, nodding at the LED readout. “It’s like a rail shooter. The video doesn’t change based on your input; the goal is for you to match your input to the video - sorta like DDR for cars. It’s footage from an ‘ideal run’ of a given Super GT track. You have to follow the timing of the turns with the controls, and the LED readout flashes green, yellow, or red depending on how you do for each turn and shift. It’s set to the Suzuka Circuit right now.”

“But how can you know? The screen is facing the wrong way.” Ann nodded at the video screen.

Ren tapped his temple. “It’s up here. I just follow the timing.”

“What do you… Oh. Wow…” Ann mumbled, realizing what he meant. Ren had memorized the entirety of the Suzuka City’s track, to the point where he didn’t require a screen to practice. She gasped.

_ ‘It’s set to the Suzuka Circuit  _ **_right now_ ** _.’ _

“Ren… have you memorized every Super GT track?”

“Pretty much.” He affirmed, with a little smile.

Ann realized that Ren lived and breathed Super GT racing. From the painstakingly annotated diagrams on the wall, to the volumes of technical manuals and specifications, this was truly where his passion was. And yet, he had to be satisfied with working on whatever projects were thrown his way, and driving the races only in his mind. At least Ann was still modeling, in a way… and the door wasn’t closed for her to return to the type of work she wanted. She couldn’t imagine the pain of being so close to one’s dream, only to have it be stuck behind a glass ceiling.

“Is… is this really fine with you?” Ann asked.

Ren just stood up, gesturing at the seat; he favored Ann with a rare, full smile. “Want to give it a try?”

The fact that he was avoiding the question wasn’t lost on her. But neither was the opportunity to gain a little insight into the sport Ren loved so much. She sat down in the chair as Ren turned the screen to face her; he tapped a few buttons on the touch interface that came up to reduce the speed to beginner levels. After a brief explanation and demonstration of the clutch pedal (Ann hadn’t driven standard before), she was ready to go.

Ann pursed her lips in concentration; as the ‘race’ started, she tried to replicate what she saw Ren do.

The LED readout flashed red through several gear changes, and then yellow a few times.

Ann frowned. “I thought I was fast enough?”

Ren shook his head. “Don’t worry about trying to catch up to what I was doing, Ann. Go slow, just try to get the timing down. The idea isn’t to go as fast as you can. You have to shift, steer, brake, and accelerate within a given window.”

He knelt down beside the seat and frame, to Ann’s left. He placed his hand over hers on the gearshift.

“R-Ren! What…” Ann stammered, her cheeks rosy. He leaned in, his other hand on the wheel. If he turned his head towards her, he’d be close enough to kiss. The thought made the blonde’s mouth go completely dry.

“Slow.” He said, his eyes on the screen. “Slow is steady, steady is smooth, smooth is fast.”

Gentle pressure from his hand guided her as he watched her feet depress the clutch and accelerator. Gradually, the feedback light changed from reds to mostly yellows, from mostly yellows to greens. He stopped guiding her hand, other than the odd push here and there.

They reached the end of the race.

“I did it!” Ann cheered.

“Yep!” Ren said, turning to face her.

Ann gasped. Their faces were inches apart; his hand was so  _ warm _ on hers...

_ ‘Close!’  _

She practically leapt up from the seat. “I… I should go! Yeah. I want to make sure I get everything ready so I can get a good night’s sleep tonight.” Ann stammered. “I really need to make sure I don’t get fired tomorrow.”

“You won’t.” Ren said, coughing. “Let’s go.”

As Ann hurriedly walked ahead of him, Ren looked down at his hand with a slight smile.

>>>

April 27, 20xx 

The two weeks leading up to the first Super GT race in Okayama passed far more pleasantly than the first two weeks Ann had spent in Suzuka City. Her routine at work was largely the same - it consisted of avoiding Kamoshida and Mika, doing photoshoots around town, and gradually getting into more meet and greets as people forgot about her mistake in the first major event. But her routine  _ outside _ of work was turned completely on its head. Ann was actually  _ happy _ .

She thought she was happy in Tokyo, going after her dream - and she was, in the way anyone would feel for chasing their dreams. A happiness of fulfilment, of attaining her ambitions.

In Suzuka City, it wasn’t better, or lesser. It was just different.

It was a simpler joy of being in the moment, of being around people who accepted her for who she was, rather than being scrutinized by people wondering what they could get out of her.

First there was the random text she received from Futaba, who  _ somehow _ got hold of her number and added her to the Phantom Tuning group text. The orange-haired girl sent her a list of Ren’s likes and dislikes, both embarrassing and pleasing Ann by telling the blonde girl that she ‘shipped’ them. And this just opened the floodgates.

Yusuke followed up next, asking to borrow the ‘eye of a kindred spirit in aesthetics’ in order to evaluate his latest custom paint job ideas.

And then she received Ryuji’s open invitation to hang out with him, Makoto, and Kaname at Phantom Tuning or other places in Suzuka.

And beside her through all of it was Ren. He joined her on these excursions with his friends; it seemed that prior to Ann’s arrival, they didn’t see him nearly as frequently. The mechanic also kept helping her study, to the point where both Ohya and Kawakami no longer had any reservations about using the model at any of the promotional events.

And Ann was changing  _ his _ life, too.

“Ann-chan!” Megumin said, catching up to Ann in the cafeteria. “There’s this crazy rumor going around that Amamiya taught you how to drive stick, and that  _ you _ drove  _ him  _ to work today. In  _ his _ car! The one he won’t let anyone even touch!”

“Ah… Not just a rumor, Megumin.” Ann said, smiling. “It took some persistence, but eventually he let me do it!”

“How did you convince him?” Ayane asked.

Ann grinned. “A  _ lot _ of pouting and fluttering eyelashes.”

“Oh, come on.” Megumin said. “I don’t believe it. The guy’s ice cold.”

“Well… Why don’t we go and ask him?” Ann said. She casually walked over to Ren’s table. He was eating his lunch - curry, it seemed - while annotating a technical manual with corrections. It was for the new driver safety harness and heads up display, currently being installed in time for the first race in Okayama at the end of the week.

A little smile crossed Ren’s lips as he sensed her presence. Lately, she’d been joining him for lunch.

“Hey, Ann--...”

Ren trailed off as he looked up at the trio of extremely attractive women, all regarding him with brilliant smiles.

“Hey, Ren. Can we join you?”

“...Sure?” Ren said, mystified.

Ayane stuck out her hand. “Hi! We haven’t actually met properly, I think. I’m Ayane Watanabe! You can call me Ayane-chan, or Aya-chan.”

Ren shook her hand, glancing once at Ann with a look that said,  _ ‘Really _ ?’ “Ren Amamiya.”

Ann’s friendly smile became a little smirk. By now, she knew Ren. He was a little like a lonely cat. He wanted companionship, but was too proud to admit it.

Megumi grinned. “And I’m Megumi Ito. Everyone calls me Megumin, though. So, is it true? Did you teach Ann-chan how to drive stick?”

“Yes.” Ren said. “After some convincing.”

Ayane rested her chin on her hand, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “Can I convince you, too? You’re pretty cute.”

Ann smiled, shaking her head. “Ren really loves that car. I don’t think—“

“I’ll think about it.” Ren said, with a noncommittal shrug.

“What?!” Ann said, her eyes wide. This wasn’t how she thought trying to break the invisible barrier around Ren would go.

Ayane looked at Ann with a little smirk. “Mm… actually, I’ll decline. I think Ann-chan might explode with jealousy.”

“Mm. Can’t have that.” Ren said. “It would be a really pretty explosion, though.”

“I… you… ...how pretty do you think, exactly?” Ann stammered, blushing.

The girls laughed; a few more Shujin employees joined them at the table, wondering what the joke was. Ren’s isolation at work started to end.

>>>

April 30, 20xx

It was race weekend at Okayama. From Ann’s perspective, everything seemed to be going well - the fans appeared to have forgiven her earlier misstep.

She suppressed her cynical smirk as she posed for another picture. It seemed that posing for pictures in a tight crop-top and short-shorts was enough to obtain forgiveness from the rabid Super GT otakus. Nearby, Ren was busy; he seemed to be everywhere, working as Shinji Takeda’s right hand. The mechanic had truly come to life. That spark, coupled with the fact that he was now  _ approachable _ (thanks to Ann), meant that everyone wanted his attention for one reason or another.

_ ‘...Means I can’t just keep him all to myself, though.’  _ Ann thought, with a hint of regret.

“That’s it, Ann-chan! What a cute little pout!” Ohya said, snapping another picture.

Ren caught Ann’s eye at that moment; the slight smirk on his face told Ann that he heard  _ exactly _ what Ohya said, and that he had a decent idea of why she was pouting, too.

But, the model did exactly what the mechanic taught her, albeit in a different context - she steered into the curve. She met Ren’s eyes; she exaggerated the pout, bent at the waist, and popped a hip. The perfect picture of ‘won’t you come  _ play?’ _

Ren walked into a trash can. Fortunately it was empty, but it crashed to the ground with a sound reminiscent of a gong. Everyone stopped to stare at the mechanic - he was normally so organized and hyper-aware of his surroundings in the pit and garage. He stopped, quickly righting the can before rushing off like a cat caught shorting a jump.

After a few more shots with the drivers (with Ann sticking to Mishima’s side rather than getting anywhere near Kamoshida), the race was on.

>>>

“God damnit!” Takeda snarled. “Pit crew, get ready! Kamoshida’s coming in for an unscheduled stop! He’s signalling driver change!”

Ren sighed.

“Unscheduled?” Ann asked, curious.

“It usually means the driver noticed something wrong with the car or feels he can’t continue. With Kamoshida, it’s hard to say. Sometimes he just ‘feels like it’s time’. Basically, he thinks he knows best, over and above Kawakami or Takeda.” Ren said, before moving into position.

The Fairlady Z pulled to a stop. The crew leapt into action, changing tires and refueling. Although it was an unscheduled stop, there wasn’t any sense in not doing as much as they could.

Kamoshida pushed the door open, calling for a driver switch.

Mishima stepped up, his helmet already on. Within moments though, there was a commotion within the cockpit.

“Then cut me out of it!” Kamoshida yelled. “We’re losing time!”

Takeda stopped a pit crew member before he could reach Kamoshida’s harness with a knife. “Stop! If you cut the harness, we won’t be allowed to leave the pit area until we replace the entire rig!”

“Just get this fucking thing off!”

“Shit! Figures that the meathead wouldn’t read the notes…” Ren cursed, running towards the pit lane. He leapt over the wall, shoving aside the designated driver-change assistant. Kamoshida’s eyes widened at the mechanic’s approach.

“Get out of here! You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing--”

“Just shut up, Kamoshida.” Ren reached in, grasping the quick-release buckle that Kamoshida was ineffectually pushing. “You need to squeeze the clasp here, and  _ then _ press. If you had read my notes, you’d have known!”

Ren unlocked and released the six-point harness before efficiently disconnecting the helmet and shoulder attachments.

Kamoshida was livid. “Why the fuck did you modify it, convict?! The quick release was  _ quick _ for a reason--”

“The regulations changed, moron!” Ren snarled. “Ever since that crash last year, the old quick-release was banned. Get the fuck out of the car! Mishima, you’re up!”

Mishima got into the car; Ren hooked him up, his hands flying. The driver-change assistant stared blankly as Ren shattered his record for time taken to hook up a new driver into the car’s safety and monitoring systems. The mechanic even expertly adjusted the gas and brake pedal distance for the size of Mishima’s foot.

“How the hell…?” The assistant muttered.

Ren stepped back, raising his hands to signify ‘all-clear’.

A pit official stopped the car. “Stop!” He pointed at Ren. “You’re not the designated driver-change assistant. Shujin Motorsports gets a ten second penalty.”

Kamoshida shoved Ren. “See? Look what you did, you piece of garbage! We were in the top ten before you pulled this shit, and the best we can expect from that loser Mishima is to hold our position. Looks like it’s up to me to salvage this on the next driver change. As usual.”

He stormed out of the pit area, cursing.

Ren glared at his back, quietly seething. He turned to Takeda as the older man put a hand on his shoulder. The Fairlady Z tore out of the pit area as soon as the penalty finished.

“It wasn’t your fault, kid.” Takeda said. “Don’t let him get to you. If you hadn’t stepped in, we’d still be sitting here.”

Ren just nodded, leaving the pit area as well.

>>>

May 1, 20xx

“ _ Eleventh!  _ Woooo!” Kawakami crowed, holding up her beer. “We did it! Kanpaaaaaai!”

The Shujin Motorsports team gathered in the Velvet Room club in Suzuka City, after the four hour trip back from Okayama. It was a long trip, but the entire team was in a celebratory mood. Ann politely took a sip of her ‘Sex on a Beach’; a fruity mix of vodka, orange juice, cranberry juice, and chambord. She leaned over to Ren, seated beside her.

“Why are we supposed to be so happy about an eleventh overall finish…?” She whispered. “I thought championship points for the season were only awarded to the top ten?”

Ren smiled wryly. “She’s just happy we snapped the streak. We haven’t finished within the top fifteen since Kobayakawa took over, remember?”

On cue, Kawakami threw her arms over the shoulders of the two from behind, her face uncomfortably close to them both.

“Hey, heeeey! What’re you two rising stars of Shujin talking’ abooouuut?” She sang, her face flushed. “All quiet and private. Fliiirrrrting?”

Ann quickly changed the subject. 

“Ah… Kawakami-san! What do you mean by rising stars?”

“Well, you two, obviously!” Kawakami replied, grinning as she stood, draining the rest of her beer in one pull. “Ann-chan charmed the interviewers and fans! And Ren-chan here saved the day during that pit stop, and kept us moving through all the other ones!”

“Ren-chan?” Ren looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be irritated, amused, or horrified.

“Yeah. It’s cute. Jus’ like  _ you _ .” Kawakami said, her speech slurred. She slammed her empty mug on the table; she took her arm off of Ann so she could drape both over Ren. “Heh… how have I not noticed your shoulders before… ?”

Megumi leaned over to Ann, whispering. “You’d better get him away from her, Ann-chan. She’s getting  _ sloppy _ drunk.”

It was true. Kawakami was rubbing her face against Ren’s, giggling. To Ren’s credit, he just took another calm sip of his beer, as if wearing his drunk, attractive boss like a backpack while she was wearing a bright yellow top with a plunging neckline was normal.

Ann hesitated. It wasn’t like she had any claim to him.

_ ‘But no one else does, either!’ _

“Hey, Ren? Let’s go dance?” Ann said, standing. She took his hand, leading him towards the floor.

Kawakami pouted, before perking up with the greatest (drunken) idea ever.

“I wanna come too! We could be a threesome! Just—”

Ohya sighed, grabbing Kawakami by the back of her shirt. “Alright, you’re becoming a walking public indecency, Sadayo. Time to go home.”

“Aww… But they’re  _ pretty _ .”

Ren sighed in relief as Ann led him to the periphery of the dance floor. It was moderately crowded; they were hidden from view of their table. “Thanks, Ann.”

Ann frowned; she tugged on his wrist as he turned to leave. She had no intention of letting him off that easily. “I wasn’t just trying to get you away from Kawakami, Ren. I want to dance.”

“So dance, then.” Ren said, standoffish. “You don’t need me for that.”

“I want to dance with  _ you _ .” Apparently, the pleasant buzz the model had going on from her drink gave her a little extra boldness. She pouted. “You wouldn’t just leave me alone, would you? Who knows what would happen…”

Ren glanced at the crowd. It was true - several men were giving him hostile looks; an equal number were watching Ann like wolves might watch an injured deer. “I.. …”

“...Sorry?” Ann couldn’t quite hear him.

“I can’t dance.” Ren muttered.

Ann blinked. **_‘That’s_** _why he was being a stick in the mud? I don’t believe it--...oh. Oh, my.’_

Ren was  _ blushing _ . The adorable sight tugged on Ann’s heartstrings in a way she didn’t think was possible; she smiled gently at him.

“It’s easy, Ren. Just come with me.” She led him onto the floor; she placed his hands on her waist before snaking her arms over his shoulders. “Just… move with the music. Move with me.”

And so they moved. He was stiff and awkward to start. But the lights were dim; the beat of the music thudded in their chests along with their hearts. Ann stared up at him. At first, her eye contact was meant to be encouraging, reassuring. She really had just wanted to dance, to have a little fun with him. But gradually the innocent fun became something else considerably less innocent. Her cerulean blue eyes half-closed as Ann fell into the depths of his smoke and steel. His eyes were so compelling, seductive; it was as if a current pushed her body against his.

She felt his hands slide lower, to her hips - covered by her tight denim shorts. Ann startled slightly in surprise; his touch became uncertain and he started to pull away. She looked at him with lidded eyes and flushed face; she caught his wrist and firmly placed his hand back on her hip. Her arms looped over his neck again, this time closer, tighter. She bit back a little gasp as they started moving, separated only by a few scant layers of cloth as his hands wandered over the small of her back, her hips, her ass.

All of it did wonderful, maddening things to her heart; a feeling of tingling anticipation roiled over in her core as they moved in a way that was less dancing and more a prelude to entangled limbs in the darkness, sweat, and heat, and losing themselves to pleasure and instinct.

Ann nipped at his throat, drawing something between a growl and a gasp from her partner. She was surprised at her own boldness.

_ ‘How… how do we  _ **_fit_ ** _ so well?’  _

She turned around so that her back was facing him; her hands clasped behind his neck again, tangling in his hair. The curve of her buttocks settled perfectly against him. She felt one of his hands squeeze her hip; the other slid up her bare midriff, feeling her toned stomach as they moved. His graceful fingers left a trail of goosebumps behind them.

Ann could feel him looking down at her, devouring her with his eyes; with a devilish little smirk, she swayed back into him, acutely aware of his biological reaction to her. She savored the hoarse gasp, the quiet curse as she arched her back, giving him a view of down the front of her off-shoulder top, showing him the upper slopes of her perfect breasts. She grinded against him, her firm ass pushing hard against his crotch, unconcerned with the crowd around them.

He took hold of her chin, tipping her face up and back to face him, over her shoulder. He leaned down to claim her.

Her heart pounded as her lips parted in anticipation.

_ ‘Finally…’  _ She wanted this. She needed this. Even though she knew that when she got what she wanted, she’d only want more, and _ more _ …

It was an addiction she welcomed. His breath was hot against her skin; his chest hard and warm against her back. 

Abruptly, she was pulled away from Ren, slamming into another body on the dance floor.

Kamoshida sneered at her. He reeked of alcohol. “What the  _ fuck _ , slut? You keep blowing me off for some shitty mechanic? Some useless trash criminal?”

“Let me go!” Ann yelled. She twisted her wrist free, slapping him.

“Bitch!” Kamoshida snarled. He backhanded her without a second thought. The crowd around them evaporated; the music screeched to a halt. Eyes were on Ann to begin with; the sight of her being struck wasn’t something that would have gone unnoticed.

Ann staggered back into Ren; it wasn’t a hard enough blow to really hurt her. But,  _ no one _ hit her. She tensed, starting to step forward to teach this jerk a lesson. She was angry enough to ignore their mismatch in size.

Ren placed a hand on her shoulder; he said nothing, but effortlessly moved her behind himself.

Ann blinked, surprise cutting through her rage. There was something odd about it. He hadn’t forced her back, or shoved her away. She simply found that she was no longer within striking distance of Kamoshida.

Kamoshida scoffed. “You piece of shit. You think you can take me on?”

Ren didn’t respond, only taking a single step forward. His complete  _ lack _ of expression somehow made this even more menacing.

Kamoshida thought so too, apparently. He raised his hands. “H-hey. I was just kidding. We don’t have to fight over some blonde bimbo, right?”

Ann ignored the insult, instead touching Ren’s elbow. “Ren… It’s not worth it. If you fight him…”

Ren turned to Ann; his eyes focused on the red mark on her otherwise pristine face. Still, Ann shook her head. The mechanic sighed, seeming ready to stand down.

It was just the moment Kamoshida was waiting for. He whirled, grabbing a beer bottle off the bar behind him with his right hand. He swiped at Ren’s head with a full-body swing, his left foot forward as he put all of his weight behind the blow.

Ren raised his left arm, but not to block. Instead, he leaned back a fraction; the bottle clipped and knocked his glasses off his face, breaking them. On Kamoshida’s follow through, Ren stepped forward at the precise moment where the bigger man’s torso was facing his left leg more than it was facing Ren. At the moment the mechanic’s left foot contacted the floor beside Kamoshida, he firmly shoved the back of his right shoulder at the worst possible moment for the drunken ‘star’ of Shujin.

As Ann watched, the memory of Yusuke’s voice rang in her mind.

_ ‘It’s more like the underlying patterns… The way things move together.’ _

Kamoshida was sent stumbling, almost flying forward as he effectively tripped over his own planted left leg. He fell to the ground, striking his face against a barstool on the way down.

“I’m… I’m bleeding! Fuck! You trash!” Kamoshida snarled, holding his cheek.

Ren squatted down. He took hold of Kamoshida’s pinky finger; he pulled it back into some kind of joint lock that Ann couldn’t quite see the details of, but it somehow left the burly man whining and whimpering, his snarl suddenly gone. The mechanic idly inspected Kamoshida’s cheek. An ugly cut was there, in almost the exact location where Ann had a bruise forming on her face.

“...Hm. Fair’s fair.” Ren muttered. He stood, heading for the door.

The crowd parted instantly.

“Hey… isn’t that the guy who was arrested? That mechanic with a record…”

“How did he do that? That’s just scary… Give him space!”

Ann watched him go; she had spent so much time with him in the past while that his masque, previously unreadable, was so clear to her now. The set of his shoulders; the way he shoved his hands into his pockets…

She followed him out, finding him at his car.

Ren looked at Ann, obviously surprised. “Ann? What are you…”

“You’re my ride.” Ann said, simply. “And it’s starting to rain.”

“...It feels like it always is around here.” Ren murmured. He unlocked the vehicle - both doors. “You sure you want to ride with me after that? People are going to talk.”

Ann got into the car without hesitating.

“They can talk all they want, Ren. It won’t change how I feel.”

Ren looked at Ann; there was a strange weariness in his smile. Like he knew what she was going to say, and he smiled because it made him happy. And it made him feel tired, because... She wasn’t sure why.

“And how do you feel, Ann?”

“You’re… you’re very important to me, Ren. And nothing’s going to change that.”

>>>

May 2, 20xx

The next day, upon Ren and Ann’s arrival at Shujin, they were both immediately called to Kobayakawa’s office.

Ren scoffed. “Looks like Kamoshida went and cried to Uncle Keroppi.”

Ann frowned. “What does this mean?”

“Nothing good.” Ren said. “We’ll have to see what he says. Either way, you’re likely best served by keeping quiet. They won’t want to get rid of you; you’re too popular amongst the fans, now.”

They stepped into the office. Kobayakawa sat at his rarely-used desk; the man barely showed up at Shujin, happy to allow his nephew to call the shots.

“Ah. Amamiya-kun, Takamaki-san. Thank you for coming.” Kobayakawa said.

Ann wondered if he had a way of speaking that  _ wasn’t _ condescending.

“I have heard some… disturbing reports from last night.” Kobayakawa frowned. “One story is that our  _ star _ , Suguru-kun, struck you, Takamaki-san, and provoked an altercation with you, Amamiya-kun.”

Ann nodded. “That’s exactly right! That creep—”

“Let me finish, Takamaki-san. If you will.” Kobayakawa said, spreading his arms in a gesture meant to be magnanimous, but really only accentuated how short his arms were in comparison to his rotund body. “Obviously, this may be true. But it may also be true that Suguru-kun stepped in to intervene when he saw Amamiya-kun getting too…  _ enthusiastic _ whilst dancing with you. And in the ensuing scuffle, you were unfortunately injured…”

Ann was flabbergasted. Almost too shocked to be enraged. Almost. “Are you fucking  _ kidding _ me?! I was there, remember?!”

“Before you decide on your story, Takamaki-san, there are certain realities you must accept. First of all, Suguru Kamoshida is the star of Shujin. Without him, there is no team. Secondly, as useful as Amamiya-kun is, he is already a convicted felon. He has no reputation to protect.”

Ann looked at Ren. He had a resigned smile on his face. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

“And third, if you decide the first version is what happened, then I will have no choice but to suspend all three parties in question while I… investigate. During that time, only essential duties will be performed by the three parties.”

Ren barked a short, derisive laugh. “Just call it like it is, Kobayakawa. You’re going to look out for your precious little nephew.”

Kobayakawa’s face twisted angrily at that. “Impertinence will get you nowhere!”

“In for a penny, in for a pound.” Ren said. “Let me get to the point for you. My duties aren’t ‘essential’, because technically I fill in where needed. Neither is Ann, because there’s three other grid girls. But Kamoshida’s one of two drivers. So he’ll just keep doing his job and earning wages.”

“Don’t be absurd. He will be under my watchful supervision even if he does race, and—“

Ren rolled his eyes. “Forget it. We’re not taking that deal anyway. You can tell everyone the second story’s true.”

“Ah. So you see reason. Very well. Takamaki-san? What about you?”

Ann was surprised for a moment. But it made sense - this was really a smart move. Neither of them wanted to be suspended without pay, and it didn’t mean they had to stop spending time together. They’d just have to deal with a few unpleasant rumors, but otherwise everything could just continue on as it was. But as she was wont to do, Ann Takamaki spoke from her heart, not her head.

“Fuck you and your deal, Keroppi!” Ann snapped. “We’ll take the suspension.”

Kobayakawa’s eyes bugged. His mouth gaped. “I… you…!”

Ann spun. She grabbed Ren’s wrist and stomped out of the office, dragging him out. She marched straight to Ren’s hidden loft about the garage, slamming the door shut behind her. If she had fur, she would have been bristling.

“Can you believe that asshole?!” Ann hissed, pacing like a caged jungle cat.

“Well, I…”

“Who the hell would have believed that anyway?!” Ann snarled, pacing. “ _ Kamoshida _ coming to save me?! Are you freaking kidding me?!”

“True, but…”

She rounded on Ren, marching over to him. She stabbed her finger into his chest. “And  _ you _ . Why would you just accept something horrible like that?! You didn’t do  _ anything _ wrong! Were you supposed to just let him hit me?! Let him hit  _ you _ ?! Why would you just let everyone think these things about you?!”

Ren’s smile normally made Ann feel brighter; made her heart feel light. Now, though, the wan expression on his face… it just hurt. And so did his following words.

“Because it doesn’t really matter, Ann.” Ren said, softly. He took hold of her hand, the one poking into his shirt. “I don’t really have a future. I don’t matter, and now you’re a month further away from getting back to the career you deserve.”

He looked over at the door. “There’s still time. We can go back and apologize, and tell him… …”

Ann started to cry. She stepped forward, leaning her head on the mechanic’s chest and clutching his shirt. She wasn’t crying for herself, but for him. “I don’t want to. I don’t care.”

She looked up at him; she heard his breath catch. She realized she must have looked terrible - but she didn’t care about that, either.

“Didn’t you listen to me last night? You’re important to me. So it hurts me when people say awful things about you, and when you say things like you don’t matter, or that you don’t have a future.” Ann said, burying her face against his shirt. “How long… How long have you been in pain for, to become like this? To get to the point where you can’t even hear how your own heart’s calling for help? I can also see how it all bothers you, even if you won’t admit it--...”

She gasped as he pulled her into an embrace; his arms, toned from years of working in his chosen profession were so strong, so warm. They nearly crushed her to his chest. Slowly, she relaxed into him; her stomach and heart turned somersaults within her as she felt their warmth intermingle; she thought she heard his breath shudder and felt his shoulders shake.

They stood there for a long time, saying nothing.

>>>

May 4, 20xx 

A few days later, Ann sat on a crate at Phantom Tuning while Ryuji worked nearby on a ridiculous black van with a yellow stripe down the middle. The monstrosity had roof ornaments meant to look like ears; the headlights looked like eyes. When Ann asked the most important question (why?), Ryuji just shrugged, saying something about how the concept of a cat-bus was oddly prevalent in Japan, and that some otaku who had more money than sense commissioned the work.

“Huh. So RenRen hasn’t come out of Leblanc since then?”

Ann shook her head. “No. He says he’s okay, but he keeps finding excuses to not do anything. It’s like he’s trying to sit in suspended animation until the month’s over.”

Ryuji sighed, tightening a bolt with his wrench. “We’re kind of into uncharted territory, here. He’s been out of a job before, but never in the kind of situation where he actually has enough savings to sit and do nothing until he can go back to his usual routine.”

“Really? He can just afford to sit there?” Ann asked. She wasn’t in much trouble either, thankfully. She was still receiving pay from previous jobs with  _ Vague _ , though it still wasn’t ideal to be sitting idle for a month for both financial and career advancement reasons. Shiho had given her an earful over the phone though after hearing the entire situation, her bestie admitted she would have done the same thing.

Ann smiled sardonically.  _ ‘And likely would have thrown something at the toad, too.’  _

“He can.” Ryuji said, answering Ann’s question. “Ever since he got out of prison, he hasn’t really done much of anything. I mean, the guy basically just wears whatever free motorsport merch he happens to pick up. Beyond rent, food, and the Lotus, he doesn’t like to spend money or time on anything.”

“The Lotus…” Ann said, thoughtfully. “Hey, Ryuji. Is that auction place he got Arsene from still around?”

>>>

May 8, 20xx 

A week after Ren and Ann were suspended from Shujin, the mechanic arrived at Phantom Tuning, stepping out of Arsene. As usual, he wore a motorsport/automotive T-shirt (Honda/Mugen this time) and a worn pair of jeans. He looked around for Ryuji, a tense frown on his face. He spotted his friend, walking out of the office in the back.

“So what’s the emergency, Ryuji? How does this have anything to do with Ann? And where is she?” Ren said, looking around.

Ryuji didn’t bother to suppress his smile at the obvious concern in Ren’s voice.

“She’ll be here any minute, dude. Just be patient.”

“I was busy, Ryuji.” Ren crossed his arms in irritation. This clearly wasn’t an emergency based on Ryuji’s cheeky grin.

“Doing what? Tuning Mona’s kibble dispenser? Oh. Hey, there she is.”

Ann walked into the garage. As usual, stylishly dressed, this time in a sleeveless red dress with a flowy skirt that showed almost too much of her pale legs (which in Ren’s mind was either just right or not enough). This was all neatly accessorized with heart-shaped sunglasses, tucked into her hair between her long twintails. She smiled at Ren, with a little laugh and wave.

Ren was so taken with her that he almost didn’t notice the black-haired stranger accompanying Ann. Another woman, also pretty in a more understated way, in navy blue jeans and a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Over-large aviators were hooked on her collar. She strode boldly up to Ren, almost uncomfortably close as she studied him with sharp brown eyes and a serious look.

Ren’s eye twitched. This was a very strange sort of scrutiny; not at all like when people were eyeing a ‘criminal’ askance, or even when he was being ogled by one of the grid girls. It was more like he was being inspected like a farm animal.

She booped his nose, grinning as she made him flinch.

“Yep. You’ll do.” She said, matter-of-fact. She stuck out her hand. “Shiho Suzui. Ann’s agent and best friend.”

“...Ren Amamiya. What do you mean, ‘you’ll do’...?”

“Don’t worry about it!” Shiho chirped.

Ren wanted to worry about it. But he was too distracted by the rhythmic beeping of a flatbed truck reversing into one of the garage’s open doors; it was being waved in by Ryuji and one of his employees.

“Right here, guys! Thanks!” Ryuji called, as the car was unloaded off the back of the truck.

Ren stared blankly at the vehicle. It was  _ probably _ a 1970 Chevrolet Camaro, though the mechanic couldn’t be sure under the layers of grime, dust, and faded paint. At the very least, there wasn’t any visible rust on the car.

“Cool, right?” Ann said, standing beside Ren.

“That’s not really how I’d describe it.” Ren muttered, as a side mirror took this opportunity to fall off, landing on the floor. “Why… why is this here?”

Ann turned to Ren hopefully, her hands clasped in front of her. “Well… Since we’re both off for the month, I thought we could use something to pass the time?”

“So you thought you’d just go and buy a car. A car that badly needs hours and hours of restoration work.” Ren said, flatly. He shook his head slowly. “We’re not working, remember? Even if you have money saved up, the cost to rent a vehicle lift and garage alone is…”

Ryuji grinned, clapping his hand on Ren’s shoulder. “You can work on her right here, buddy.”

Ren glared at Ryuji. It was quite clear which ‘her’ Ryuji meant. “I don’t take handouts.”

“Then you’ll do the odd job here and there, too.” Ryuji said, just smiling more. “I’ll even pay you like a regular employee, less lift rental and materials.”

Ren eyed the car. There  _ was _ something about it, though. The classic lines were still there; the shape that hearkened back to a simpler time. In his mind’s eye, he could see Ann in the driver’s seat, wearing that dress, her sunglasses on, a big smile on her face--

“...I’m not a body work guy. There’s no visible rust, but the dents, the grime, the paint--”

“Ah! Such beauty! Such lines!” Yusuke cried, approaching from the other side of the garage. He lovingly ran gloved hands over the body of the car. “What a privilege to work on a relic of a bygone era. I’ll gladly volunteer my time.”

Ren shot his other friend a look. He sighed. “Right. And I’m sure that Gremlin’s already looked up parts. And Kana-chan’s asked her dad for advice, too?”

“Heh heh. You know us so well, RenRen.” Ryuji grinned.

Ren stepped closer to the car. “Do we even know if this piece of junk runs?”

Ann gave Ren a chastising look; she took out the key. “What do you take me for, Ren? Haven’t you been the one teaching me these past few weeks?”

She got into the car - it was American through and through, with a left hand driver’s side. “There were other cars there, in better shape.” Ann said, sliding the key into the ignition. “But this one just… spoke to me, you know? And I found out that the development name of the Camaro was ‘Panther’, which I just  _ love _ , so it just… fit.”

Ren barely listened as he watched Ann fiddle with the seat height. He felt the touch of a gentle soul on his shoulder, a whisper of memory in his ear.

_ ‘Hey, nii-chan. We should buy that one.’ _

_ ‘Why, Akira? It’s a piece of junk! It’ll take years to fix up.’ _

_ ‘Yeah… But it just… speaks to you, you know? Look at it. And besides, it’s a  _ **_Lotus_ ** _. Like you. Doesn’t it just kinda fit…?’ _

The distinctive roar of a  _ very _ modern engine broke Ren out of his reverie.

Ann grinned, almost yelling over the sound of the noise. “And that’s the best part! It already has a new engine! It’s--”

“The LS…” Ren paused, his hand resting on the vibrating hood. He cocked his head to the side, listening.  _ Feeling _ . The distinctive whine of a fan belt was there, just under the surface of the tone. There was power waiting to be unleashed. “...No. The LT4 engine out of a ZL1 Camaro. Supercharged…”

He opened his eyes, looking at Ann. Her joyful grin was brilliant; the ice he tried to encase his heart inside didn’t stand a chance. She wasn’t even looking at him; she pressed the gas, just reveling in the sheer power under the hood of the car.

“So?” Ann asked, turning that smile to him. “What do you think?”

Ren was utterly defeated.

“I think I’m in love.”

>>>

May 26, 20xx

The next weeks passed by in a flash. Ann and Ren spent every spare moment at Phantom Tuning - either to work at the shop, or to work on the Camaro. Ann started picking up more practical skills, both mechanical and driving, though Ren insisted she don a pair of gloves for almost  _ any _ work.

_ ‘It’s your livelihood, Ann. You can’t get any scars or develop rough hands.’ _

_ ‘You just like a girl to have pretty skin, don’t you?’ _

She had been rewarded with a cough and a barely hidden blush as Ren ducked his head, hiding his face under the brim of his baseball cap as he got back to work. The model even managed to pick up some work more in line with her chosen profession, modeling in some advertisements for Phantom Tuning. And so, business at the shop picked up dramatically.

Ren and Ann were working on the Camaro again today; all of the other projects in the garage were either finished or waiting for additional parts to arrive.

Ann frowned, reading off a technical manual. “It says that you have to feed the wire through the glove box for that part, Ren.”

“Really? That doesn’t sound right.” Ren muttered, lying on his back in the front of the Camaro, his legs sticking out from the passenger side door. He opened the glove box.

Ann peered over into the car, an anticipatory, gleeful little smile on her face. A little cellphone strap, shaped like an exceptionally cute tuxedo cat, tumbled out, bopping the mechanic between the eyes. She giggled at his briefly bewildered look, followed by the little smile on his face.

This had become a little ritual of theirs over the past weeks - Ann started it, by leaving him a new Lotus baseball cap on the driver’s seat one day. He reciprocated, by leaving a strawberry crepe keychain behind the sun visor for her to find. It kept going back and forth, little trinkets and treats exchanged as they danced around each other. They had gotten so close that night at the club. But that was a physical chemistry, found under the haze of alcohol and thudding bass. Important, but only half the equation. This was different… a different kind of closeness as they gravitated closer and closer to each other, enjoying the sweet tension of  _ ‘not quite yet _ .’

Ann savored every moment of longing; it felt like a matter of time, now.

Ren got out of the car, holding up the little charm.

“Cute. I take it the wire  _ doesn’t _ go through the glove box?”

“Obviously. Who’s ever heard of an instrument cluster being wired that way?” Ann said, teasingly. “What kind of mechanic are you?”

Ren smirked; he slipped the gift into his pocket. “You mock me, but you have me at a disadvantage, Ann.”

“And what disadvantage is that?”

Ren’s smirk softened into a little smile. He touched her hand hesitantly. “I take most things you say seriously.”

Ann paused, surprised at the subtle shift. In the past weeks, Ren had continued to be vaguely cat-like in his affection. Always close enough to touch, but never initiating, never sticking around long enough for anything substantial. He remained close to her now, though. She turned her hand to intertwine her fingers with his. “Well. That could be a problem for the future. I like to play pranks, you know…?”

“...We have a future?” Ren stepped closer to her.

“Mm. Lots of work to do on the car, you know. Months.  _ Years _ , if we go slow.” Ann murmured, her voice dropping in volume - making him draw ever closer to be able to hear her.

Ren was up to the challenge, his voice low. “Well… Remember what I said, though? Slow is steady…”

Ann nodded; she tipped her face up towards his, her eyes starting to close in the universal sign between almost-lovers and lovers for ‘go’. “Steady is smooth…”

“Smooth is  _ fast _ …” He finished, his own eyes closing as he leaned in.

“Well. Isn’t that just adorable.”

They both separated; they turned to see the sneering face of Kamoshida, standing at the open door of the garage.

“The hell are you doing here, creep?” Ann glared at him.

“It’s a shop, isn’t it? I’m a driver. Just thought I’d check out the place that’s got everyone talking.” Kamoshida said, looking around disdainfully. “Not much to look at, though.”

Ann could see Ren tensing - particularly when the Shujin driver approached the Camaro. Kamoshida laughed derisively.

“Woah-Ho! Look at this piece of crap.” Kamoshida raised his leg to kick at the car; Ren was in his face almost instantaneously. “Oh? Wanna start something, convict? It won’t be like last time. I’m ready for you, now.”

“Really? There isn’t even a beer bottle for you to try and cold cock him with.” Ann scoffed.

“Shut up, bitch.” Kamoshida waved a hand dismissively at her. “The men are talking. Well.  _ One _ man, anyway.”

“The fuck is going on here?” Ryuji yelled, walking over. “Kamoshida? You  _ know _ you aren’t welcome.”

Kamoshida shrugged. “I’m just a potential customer. Amamiya here is helping me out.”

Ryuji shook his head with a little grin. “Actually, we all work together here. So we’d all be happy to help you out.”

Several employees were taking interest in the exchange; many held wrenches or tire irons.

_ “All of us.” _

Kamoshida stepped back, raising his hands. He grinned. “Alright. Not much a small time shop can do for me, anyway. The main reason I came by was to tell you that your suspension’s up, Ann-chan. But the trash… well. My uncle needs more time to investigate, so you’re out for another month.”

“What?!” Ann hissed. “That’s such bullshit…”

Ren didn’t respond, his face carefully neutral. “That’s all, Kamoshida?”

“Depends on you. Want to have a private ‘talk’ about it, one on one?”

Ann shook her head. “Ren, don’t. He’ll just spin the story however he wants.”

“I know.” Ren said, giving Ann a reassuring nod before looking back to Kamoshida. “We’re done here.”

The mechanic turned away.

Kamoshida smiled cruelly.

“I figured you’d be a coward. Just like your brother.”

Ann looked at Ren sharply as the mechanic tensed up. He spun to face Kamoshida. She had seen Ren angry before - he tended to quietly seethe; for him, rage was usually something cold. Like so much in his life, getting mad seemed to be a rational, conscious decision for the mechanic. This was far, far different. He had gone from cool to enraged in a flash.

“What did you say?” Ren said, quietly.

Kamoshida was too pleased with himself for having finally hit a nerve in the normally unflappable man that he didn’t recognize the danger. “I know all about little baby Akira. How he was so ashamed of his big brother going to jail that he killed himself. He ran away from life like a little bitch—“

Ren lunged at Kamoshida with something between a snarl and a growl. No screams of ‘I’ll kill you’ or ‘shut up’. Just blind rage.

He closed the distance in an instant; his hands were centimetres from the man’s throat. Ann held him back desperately. Kamoshida stumbled and fell backwards as any further vile words tumbled out of his mind. When he looked at Ren right now, he didn’t see the lowly mechanic that he wanted to ‘put in his place’. He saw something little more than an enraged beast.

His own instinct for self-preservation pushed him to scramble back to his feet and charge out of the garage, bravado forgotten. He leapt into his Subaru, speeding away.

Meanwhile, Ren struggled and pushed, trying to get to his car. He was going to go after Kamoshida.

But Ann wouldn’t let him. She locked her arms around his waist, digging her heels into the ground.

“No! Ren, it’s not worth it! It’s not!” She yelled, desperately holding him back. She knew that if he could get his hands on Kamoshida this time, the driver wouldn’t walk away - and Ren would earn himself a one way ticket back to prison.

Slowly, Ren stopped struggling. He put a hand over Ann’s, still firmly around him.

“It’s fine, Ann. Thanks. I… I’ll be alright. I just need to go home and rest for a while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s funny how Shiho ends up getting so many of my favorite moments in my stories. I’m not sure why. I think it likely relates back to the story in P5 of how she and Ann first met and became friends. I love the idea of this feisty firecracker of a girl who speaks her mind bluntly.
> 
> Also, my apologies to Keroppi fans.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No new terms!
> 
> NSFW warning.

May 28, 20xx 

Ann didn’t get much of an opportunity to see if Ren was back to normal or not. She returned to work just in time to join the promotional events and preparation leading up to the second race of the season at the Fuji Speedway. This time around, the team seemed to be full of a nervous energy that the blonde hadn’t seen the last time.

“They actually think they have a shot at the top ten this time.” Ohya had said. “Kamoshida’s talking a big game.”

He certainly was. The ‘star’ of Shujin Motorsports was taking every opportunity to boast, claiming that since the ‘criminal trash’ was gone, they’d easily enter the top ten. He was quick to remind everyone who listened of their near-miss at Okayama, outright blaming the eleventh place finish on the penalty Ren took for interfering on the driver change, even if the switch was warranted.

So despite Ann’s cheerful interview answers and dazzling smile as she waxed poetic about Shujin Motorsports’ chances to the media and fans, she watched with barely concealed glee as Kamoshida crossed the finish line dead last. Without Ren behind the scenes, filling in where needed and increasing overall efficiency, Mishima, Kawakami, Takeda, and the pit crew were unable to cover up for Kamoshida’s poor race strategy and overconfidence.

She didn’t bother to get up from her spot - Ohya waved her and the girls back, anticipating the man to throw a temper tantrum of epic proportions.

Ann fished around the pocket of the Shujin jacket she wore over her bolero/miniskirt combination, pulling out her phone. She smiled reflexively as she saw that it was Ren texting her.

**RA: Just saw the finish on TV. Look out for the helmet toss.**

**AT: What do you mean?**

**AT: Oh, there it goes. He’s got a decent arm**

**RA: Yeah, used to play volleyball apparently. Don’t get him started on it, he’ll never shut up about it.**

**AT: How are you doing?**

**RA: Fine.**

**AT: Have you been getting to the PT garage? Kana-chan’s been complaining that she hasn’t seen you**

**RA: I’ve had stuff going on.**

Ann frowned. She  _ knew _ that was a lie. But she also knew he tended to not respond well to being pressed over text - it was too easy for him to just stop answering.

**AT: Okay. Want to get together tonight? Won’t be much of a celebration**

**RA: I can drop by for a bit.**

_ ‘Well… Even if he was lying, at least I’ll get to see him.’ _

>>>

May 29, 20xx 

“Miaow?”

Ann woke up the next morning to the sight of Mona sitting beside her head. The tuxedo cat purred happily, rubbing his face against her long hair. The blonde girl sighed, scratching his ears.

“At least one of us is happy, Mona-chan.” Ann sighed, sitting up in her bed. Alone, except for the cat.

True to his word, Ren did drop by last night - for a few minutes. He had handed Mona over, asking if Ann would mind looking after him for the night and day; something about how Leblanc was having some renovations done, and Ren being tied up with something else. Ann had been too surprised (Mona was Ren’s ever-present companion; the mechanic even snuck him in to work occasionally) and disappointed (that Ren wasn’t going to ask if she’d mind looking after  _ himself _ for the next night and day) that she hadn’t asked for details, instead just accepting the purring bundle of fur and various cat supplies before the mechanic disappeared into the night.

She got up, reflexively starting to get ready for work - her phone chimed.

**IO: Ladies, you might as well stay clear of Shujin today, probably tomorrow too. Not much cause for promotional events this close to a horrible showing. Also, Kamoshida’s still on the warpath, especially since Kawakami and Takeda have convinced Kobayakawa to bring Amamiya back.**

**MI: That’s great! The team really suffered without Amamiya-kun**

**AW: You mean** **_Ann-chan_ ** **suffered without Amamiya-kun**

**MI: lol**

**AW: Ann-chan and Ren-kun, sitting in a tree…**

**MN: ugh. It’s early. Can we please keep this group chat** **_professional?_ **

Ann was too pleased by the news to take the time to be fake-annoyed at the teasing. She grinned at Mona.

“Things are looking up, Mona-chan!”

“Miaow!”

>>>

Later in the afternoon, Ann walked into Phantom Tuning with Mona riding on her shoulder.

Ryuji was working on the horrible cat-bus again, just putting some finishing touches on. This time, a static-discharge strap at the back of the bus that doubled as a tail. He stood up, taking a step back to look over the bus. He shuddered, stepping away. “I really can’t say I’m proud of any of this…”

Futaba looked up from her laptop thoughtfully; she and Kaname were seated at a table nearby, doing their homework. “I don’t know, Ryuji. It looks kinda cute? Like if MonaMona ever transformed into a bus.”

Ryuji scoffed. “That’ll be the day. If he does, the cat would actually have a use--”

Mona hissed.

Kaname laughed. “I swear, it’s like Mona understands you, Ryuji. Hey, Ann.”

“Hey, guys.” Ann said, scritching Mona’s head. “Have any of you seen Ren today? He just foisted Mona off on me last night and he hasn’t been replying to my texts. I’ve been trying to tell him that they want him back at work as soon as he’s able!”

Ryuji frowned. “Oh… He didn’t tell you, did he?” He glanced at Kaname.

“...It’s fine, Ryuji. You might as well tell her. She needs to know, if she’s going to be involved with Renpai.”

Ann didn’t even bother trying to deny it anymore; the entire PT ‘family’ seemed to be trying to push them together.

“It’s the anniversary of Akira’s suicide, Ann.” Ryuji sighed. “Ren always gets a bit withdrawn around this time. More so than usual, anyway. He usually remembers to answer his texts, though.”

Futaba nodded. “Yeah. First time he’s ever asked someone to look after Mona.”

Ann’s feeling of unease increased as she spotted a familiar shape further down the garage. “...Wait. Why is his car here?”

Sure enough, the Lotus Evora was parked beside Ann’s in-progress Camaro. That was definitely strange. In the time she’d known Ren, he never took public transit or cabs.

“He dropped it off at the start of the day.” Ryuji said. “He--”

“Where did he go?!” Ann winced as she startled Mona with her shout; the cat inadvertently dug a claw into her shoulder before leaping off with a disgruntled yowl.

“He said he was going to this beach that Akira loved.” Kaname said, glancing at Futaba. “Really isolated, on the outskirts of town. I think he took a cab…”

Futaba met Kaname’s gaze, nodding once. She then turned to Ann, with large, frightened eyes. “W-wait. You don’t think… He wouldn’t!”

Ann’s blood turned to ice in her veins. The last thread that connected Ren to his passion of Super GT had been cut with his ongoing suspension. Kamoshida’s mockery had recently laid bare the grief that still haunted the mechanic’s heart. And on top of that, it was the anniversary of Akira’s death. It made a sort of chilling sense. Leaving Mona with someone he trusted. Leaving his beloved Lotus Evora at Phantom Tuning, so no one would have to go and get it after. Going to the beach that his brother had loved in life.

It made sense if he wasn’t planning to come back.

“I need a car!” Ann shouted, turning to Ryuji.

Futaba sprang to her feet, understanding immediately. She charged into the office; she emerged a few moments later with keys and a duffel bag. She threw the bag into the cat-bus and tossed the keys to Ann. “Use the Mona bus! Go! There’s a first aid kit in the duffel bag. We’ll call an ambulance to come after you!”

Ryuji blinked. “What?! H-hey, wait--”

Kaname interrupted him. “Ryuji’s right. Don’t worry about taking Mona, Ann. We’ll look after him here. Just go and find Renpai! Here’s the location of the beach.”

Ann nodded; she sprang into the cat-bus, speeding out of the Phantom Tuning garage.

Ryuji sighed, looking at Futaba and Kaname.

“Was that really necessary?”

The two high school girls exchanged sly smiles. Kaname shrugged.

“Nope. But  _ way _ more fun this way.”

>>>

Ren stood waist-deep in the surf on a beach on the outskirts of town. He suppressed a shiver; the water wasn’t freezing per se, but the ocean temperature in the month of May was still cool. On a windy day, it was still somewhat unpleasant to be in the water for too long. But it was fine; it was important for him to stand in the water, to breathe the salt air.

“You used to stand right here, Akira… said it helped you think. I still can’t see it. It just helps me be cold.”

Ren chuckled.

“It was another thing that ‘spoke’ to you. You were always weird like that. I’m cold. I’m gonna go.”

The wind picked up; a warbling, rippling sound interspersed with the crash and crackle of the waves striking the sand. To Ren, it sounded like laughter.

“Sorry I’m not as tough as you, Akira. I miss you.”

He smiled as the wind calmed for a moment.

The beach quieted just enough for him to hear splashing and a familiar voice.

“Ren! Don’t!”

A blonde twin-tailed surface-to-Ren missile careened into him as he turned, sending them both under the cold water with a splash.

>>>

Moments earlier, Ann pulled right onto the beach in the ridiculous cat-bus. She charged towards the water, seeing Ren standing hip-deep. She caught his profile as she ran; he smiled wistfully. Ann’s eyes widened. It was the moment of peace before he took the plunge, throwing his life to the mercy of the ocean.

“REN!” She screamed, her feet kicking up sand. She tripped over something soft, falling to her knees. She got up quickly, sprinting, screaming at him. The wind howled and roared, carrying her voice away from the mechanic.

She splashed into the water; he started to turn, finally hearing her.

“Ren! Don’t!”

Ann threw herself at him - only then remembering one critical fact:

She didn’t know how to swim.

>>>

“Can you stop laughing at me already?!” Ann yelled, her fists balled up at her sides, soaking wet. “It’s not funny!”

Ren wheezed, doubled over as they stood in the water - now just up to their knees as they made their way to dry land. Or tried to. Ren kept having to stop to laugh as Ann outlined what she  _ thought _ he was about to do.

“You… haha…. ...you threw yourself at a guy who you thought was going to drown himself, knocking him under the water… What were you going to do?! Stop me from drowning myself by drowning me before I could do it?! Hehe…”

“Shut up.” Ann said, splashing him.

“You… you can’t even swim!” Ren snickered.

It was true. When they resurfaced, Ann had thrashed around in a panic, screaming for help. Until Ren had gently reminded her to try  _ standing up _ on the sandy floor, just a metre below.

Ann sighed, shaking her head. She shivered as the wind picked up again.

“Heh… Sorry, Ann.” Ren said. He put an arm around her to help; he wasn’t much warmer, though. “I have some towels. Come on.”

He led them back up the beach, where his lean-to stood.

_ Had  _ stood, anyway, because it was the thing that Ann tripped over on her headlong rush to ‘save’ Ren.

Ren raised his eyebrow.

Ann glared at him, daring him to laugh.

Ren purposefully knelt down, picking up a towel - now completely covered not only in sand, but coffee and mustard from his lunch. He offered it to Ann.

Ann stared at the white/brown/yellow fabric, and then back at Ren’s perfectly serious face; his wet hair was matted down and his NISMO shirt was plastered to his body. He shivered.

Ann started giggling.

Ren cracked a smile.

They both started laughing this time; Ann helped Ren gather everything, carrying it back to the cat-bus. Ann went inside, peeling off her wet off-shoulder shirt and jean shorts, leaving her in the floral-print bikini she wore underneath. While it wasn’t summer-y enough to play in the ocean yet, it was at least warm enough during the day to dress like it was the summer. She found a towel in the duffel bag Futaba had thrown into the vehicle, wrapping it around herself.

She pulled out another one for Ren, stepping outside the vehicle - and into the makeshift shelter the mechanic had already set up, using the side of the cat-bus as a wall and staking the tarp from his lean-to into the ground opposite. He was warming up in front of a fire he made at one end of the makeshift triangular shelter, crouching on the sand. Ren had already doffed his soaking-wet shirt.

Ann paused to admire his bare shoulders and back before draping the towel over him.

Ren stood, nodding. “Thanks… Where did you get this?” He asked. It was a large, plush bath towel. Not something he would have expected in an emergency kit.

“In the emergency supplies that Futaba gave me, when I thought you were going to… you know.” Ann said, not even wanting to  _ say _ it.

Ren shook his head with a little smile. “Really. Futaba gave you supplies. Can I see?”

Ann nodded; she brought the bag out. Ren started removing items to inspect the contents. First, there was a large beach blanket, two normal blankets, and a spare towel. Second, a thermos full of hot tea, a few bottles of water, and a variety of snacks. And at the very bottom, a first-aid kit. Ren opened it, impassively glancing through the contents. He raised an eyebrow, pausing at one particular item. He shoved it back to the bottom of the bag before withdrawing a note.

“From Futaba. It says, ‘have fun, still shipping you guys.’ “ Ren said, sighing.

Ann looked over everything; it was enough for a picnic for two, at least. “...Well. We haven’t really talked in awhile. Might as well enjoy it?”

So they set it up. In a few minutes, they were sitting together on the beach blanket, in front of the fire and facing the endless expanse of the Pacific.

Ann adjusted her blanket and sipped her tea. “So… why did you do all of that stuff before coming out here, then?”

“Sojiro really was doing some renovations today.” Ren smiled. “And Mona gets pretty bored on the beach. As for Arsene, I thought it was a good chance for Yusuke to take some of the promotional pictures he’s been wanting, since I wasn’t going to be driving today.”

“So a series of random coincidences. I feel like such a goof…” Ann mumbled.

“Futaba and Kana-chan didn’t really help matters.”

Ann chuckled, looking at all the things that the orange-haired girl packed into the duffel bag. More than enough for a little picnic for two. “No. They helped…” She shifted, letting her head rest on Ren’s shoulder. She sighed quietly when she felt his arm slide around her. “Ren?”

“Hm?”

“Will you tell me why you came out here, then? Is today really the day when Akira…” She trailed off, looking up to gauge his reaction.

He idly poked at the fire with a stick, sending a few embers into the starlit darkness above them. After a moment, he turned to her, his grey eyes reflecting the light of the fire. “It is. This was one of Akira’s favorite spots before he left for Tokyo. He said he fell in love with it because his first time here, there was a bioluminescent bloom. I wouldn’t have believed him if he hadn’t shown me the pictures… The waves glowed blue in the night.”

Ann looked out over the water; just inky black tonight. “That would be pretty beautiful.”

She looked back at the fire, listening quietly as he continued.

“Ever since that happened, he came here to think. He said it ‘spoke to him’.” Ren mused. “That guy… he overused that term. I used to accuse him of saying that because he was trying to make himself seem like even more of an eccentric genius. You know, he even would break out this pair of glasses with white tape on the bridge, sometimes? He said it completed the look.”

Ann giggled. “Sounds kinda adorkable.”

“Definitely.” Ren said, taking off his own glasses. He looked at them for a moment, before handing them to Ann. “Try them on?”

Ann curiously slipped them on, expecting her vision to warp - everything was crystal clear. Ren’s prescription must have been minimal… ...or, the glasses did nothing at all. She looked up at Ren. “You… you don’t actually need these?”

Ren stared at her for a moment - the thick black frames on her were somehow perfectly cute. He took them off of her face gently, laying them aside. “I don’t. I started wearing them after I got out of prison. I thought it would make me seem less approachable and unassuming. I mostly just wanted to be left alone.”

Ann immediately understood what he was saying. He wore glasses as a means to keep people away - but he was showing them to  _ her _ , making her understand why. He wanted to let her in. Ann took a breath, working up the courage to ask again the question she raised after the first time she visited Phantom Tuning.

“Is this really okay, Ren? Just passing your days like this?”

Ren tugged his blanket tighter around himself. For a moment Ann worried that he was going to close himself off. To her surprise, he spoke freely. 

“Akira was loved by everyone. But people are moving on, as they should. Ryuji’s eventually going to get his shit together and propose to Makoto, and they’re going to start a family. Yusuke’s always Yusuke, running from one inspiration to another. Futaba has ambitions to leave town and make the next Google… And Kana-chan…”

Ren sighed.

“Well. She was falling in love with Akira when he left for the city. But she’s only sixteen. Every time I see her, she’s hurting less and less. And that’s a good thing. To her… to all of them, Akira’s becoming a bittersweet memory. And eventually, he’ll become a faded bittersweet memory… And then just someone they think of once in a while before focusing on the here and now.”

“I don’t hold it against them.” Ren continued. “In fact, that’s how it should happen. They’re good people; the best people I know. I want them to have such joy in their lives that they don’t have time to remember the sad things. But then it falls on me to remember. I was his only family, since my father walked out and mom died. If I don’t remember him, then… Well. He’ll disappear.”

“Don’t you think Akira would want his older brother to have that kind of joy too, Ren?” Ann said.

“Heh.” Ren chuckled softly. “I thought you’d say that. You know… this is actually the first time I’ve come here since he died?”

“Really?” Ann snuggled in just a little closer against him. “Why now…?”

He shrugged. “This year, I wanted to tell him about this Tokyo girl who blew into my life like a cloudburst. I wanted to tell him that she makes me flustered and drives me crazy in ways I never knew I wanted before. I wanted to tell him that she speaks and acts from her heart, damn the consequences. Even if it means losing her job, or buying a car she has  _ no idea _ how to restore, or trying to stop a guy from drowning himself by drowning him--”

Ann pouted at Ren. “Hmph.”

Ren laughed, the bitter note that was usually there finally giving away to just sweetness.

“But mostly… I wanted to ask him if it was alright. If it was okay for me to try to move forward a little.”

“...and?” Ann asked, her tone hopeful.

“He didn’t answer. Just as well. If he were here, he’d ask me why the hell I’m asking an empty beach if it’s okay for me to date a hot blonde girl.”

Ann burst out into giggles. “I wish I could have met him.”

“He’d have liked you.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because I love you.”

There it was. At long last.

His calm tone belied his anxiety. Ann could feel the tension in the arm around her, the way his body tightened. He was so afraid of what was going to happen; already anticipating rejection despite everything they clearly felt for each other. He was like a cat who had seen unkindness too many times.

The words hung in the air between them, in the ambient sound of the crackling fire and waves lapping at the sand. The heat from the small blaze wasn’t enough to account for the feeling that warmed Ann’s face, spreading through her head and heart. It wasn’t terribly surprising; not with how close they had become over the past while. But saying it was like casting a spell. It turned  _ ‘not quite yet’ _ into  _ ‘now’. _

Ann put her empty cup down before turning into him, nearly sitting in his lap. She nestled into the crook of his arm, resting her head on the space between his neck and shoulder. She smiled as she felt him relax again.

“Since when...?” It wasn’t like it mattered. She just wanted to hear more of his rich baritone; she wanted to feel the rumble of his voice into her body.

He breathed the scent of her hair, long since undone from her twintails. Sea salt and the lightly floral smell of her shampoo. “Somewhere between ‘one way to spell ‘Ren’ is ‘lotus’ ‘ and when you first asked me what I thought of your Camaro. What about you…?”

Ann shook her head. She moved, now definitely on his lap. She turned further into him, facing him. Her palm was on his bare chest; she could feel his heart pounding underneath.

“I’m not done falling in love with you yet.” She whispered, kissing his neck. His jaw. The corner of his parted lips. She tormented them both, relishing the tension, feeling it start to fray. Feeling the last reservations fade away.

“I want to keep falling for you. Again and again, day after day…”

It was chaste, at first. Softness against softness. Their first kiss. She leaned against him, her weight settling against his body. He held her waist through the towel still covering her; the press of his hands made her his willing captive against his heat.

Ann pulled back for a moment, her eyes lidded and glassy as she regarded him.

To Ren’s eyes, she was perfectly backlit by the fire behind her; it made her seem otherworldly. An unreal beauty with a blonde mane tumbling down her back. The crash of the waves behind her made him think of the legends of the Sirens; his mechanical mind always wondered how a man could so willingly dive to his death.

Now, as she dove into him _ ,  _ as her lips pressed against his with a growing urgency and hunger, he chastised himself for ever doubting. He found himself on his back, lying on the beach blanket. The towel fell away from her body; his hand glided down her back as they tasted each other with wet sounding clicks and sighs.

His hands needed to know her; to touch her. He squeezed and kneaded her round hips and firm ass, drawing flirtatious little moans and giggles; her thighs splayed to either side of his own as she continued to kiss and lick into his mouth, playfully sucking on his tongue. He felt her smile against his lips, encouraging him to continue.

She sat back, resting her palms on his chest. She slowly ran them over his skin, savoring the little shivers she created with the touch. Ann drank in the sight of him, memorized the lines of the muscle, every little imperfection. The small scar on his left shoulder; a little mole on his right. She burned the sight of his eyes into her memory; smoky, hazy, and  _ adoring _ in a way she’d never been looked at before.

“Ann…?”

She caressed his cheek, kissing him softly. “I’m just happy, Ren. You’re finally mine.” She took hold of his hand, placing it on the side-tie of her bikini bottom. “And I’m finally yours…”

They kissed again, each closing their eyes as Ren felt for and untied the bows at her hips, her back, and the nape of her neck. He felt her shift on top of him, dropping the garments aside. In an unspoken agreement, he kept his eyes shut until he felt her settle on top of him again, her hands again resting on his torso. When he opened his eyes, it was his turn to engrave the sight into memory.

Her skin glowed almost golden in the firelight. The combination of her lidded eyes and flushed, rosy cheeks was the perfect combination of ‘demure’ and ‘aroused’. Everything about her spoke of the countless hours she dedicated to her profession. Toned stomach and legs that needed to be kissed; a curve of her waist and hip that seemed to be purpose built for his hands. Breasts that… that…

His mind completely and utterly failed him. He stared blankly.

Apparently, his stricken state was not lost on Ann. She frowned slightly at Ren’s lack of reaction - she was a professional model; she had complete confidence in how she looked. She was mildly disappointed in his subdued reaction to her. That disappointment only lasted a millisecond, though.

“How can you possibly be this perfect...?” Ren said in an awed whisper, his hands trailing up her slender waist, drawing little shivers and a pleasured sigh from Ann. He sounded so sincere that it left her flustered, and as she hoped, falling ever deeper for him.

She didn’t reply to his question. Instead, she guided his hands to her breasts; they  _ ached _ with Ann’s need to know if his touch was anything like the lurid fantasies she dreamed up in her nights alone. She gasped, her hips rocking against him as he started to feel her, cupping her full bosom, massaging and pressing on skin and flesh that was paradoxically pliant and firm. His fingers stroking and rubbing her sensitive nipples. His hands were rougher than she imagined; years of his work, she supposed. But he was so perfectly, surprisingly tender. Slow, steady, smooth, as they so often recited.

So smooth that it was fast. Her focus quickly shifted to the growing arousal between her legs and the hard heat that she could feel through his shorts. A quiet whine rose in her throat as he continued his careful, methodical massage of her body. She hooked her fingers under his waistband, starting to pull.

But he wasn’t ready yet. Not until he settled some questions about  _ his  _ fantasies. He pulled her down against him; his movement was like water. Flowing, guiding her to her back. No surprise, no sudden gasp or spin preceding rough lovemaking or clumsy dominance.

Instead, his hand found hers; fingers intertwined as he started to devour her with his kisses, sampling the smooth skin of her neck, her decolletage. Slowly, he closed his mouth around the erect peaks of her breasts, starting to suckle on her erect nipples. When he lightly closed his teeth on her, barely a bite, her quiet moans turned into a gasp so sharp that he wondered if he had somehow hurt her. An arch to her back and her free hand running through, clutching his hair told him otherwise.

“Ren… ah… more…” She managed to sob. Rougher hands than she imagined certainly, but far, far better than anything she had come up with.

He closed his eyes, wanting to hear his name on her lips, wanting to surround himself with the sweet sounds of her want for him. The fingers of his free hand carefully traced a line up her inner thigh, pausing.

He kissed her; he waited for her to relax into it, to return it. Waited for her to respond to the flick of his tongue against her closed lips. He felt her nestle against him; her lips parted.

He delved his fingers into the entrance of her slick sex.

Ann let out a muffled cry into their kiss, the need for  _ more _ quickly overwhelming surprise. She thrusted against his hand, wanting to feel him deeper, harder. She let go of his hand so she could cling to his shoulders, her body shuddering as he gently rubbed the front wall of her vagina. Her eyes became unfocused; her back arched. Close… so close.

The pressure abated before she got there. She writhed, starting a protest that was interrupted by herself - she wailed suddenly, muffling herself against the skin of his neck. She called his name repeatedly as he started to trace soft circles over the hood of her clitoris with his thumb.

Her entire body started to tense; her breathing quickened. She involuntarily bucked her hips, trying to force the issue.  _ Almost  _ again.

__ When he took his hand away, again just shy of her release, she let out a needy whine that would have embarrassed her if she had been in a more rational state of mind. He was playing with her like a cat played with its prey - the key difference being that she desperately wanted to be eaten up.

“Ren… Ren!  _ Please _ …”

Her frustration disappeared into the darkness beyond their campfire. She squeezed his shoulders as he left a trail of kisses from her ear to her neck; she stroked his hair and cradled his head as he paused just in front of her sex. She panted in anticipation, her legs spread apart, her hands applying gentle pressure to draw him into her. His breath was hot against her. His arms wrapped around her thighs.

A gentle kiss drew a tiny hitched breath from her. More and more frequent, longer touches, until there was no separation at all. He was lapping her up, kissing and licking hungrily and insistently, the erotic sounds of his ministrations drowned out by her gasps, moans, and cries of his name as every muscle in her body tensed to the point where it almost hurt, one hand clawing the blanket, the other gripping his scalp. Her back bowed and her toes curled as the tension snapped. Ann’s vision turned white and she thrusted against his mouth through her climax, rutting against his lips and tongue like she was in heat. At its conclusion, she collapsed back limply, whimpering as he continued, now gentle, as if bringing her slowly off the peak to a low hum that seemed to reverberate through her body. The way he had gone from eating her out lustfully and possessively to this careful worship made her head spin with pleasure and affection.

He pulled back, hovering over her. Her skin glowed in the firelight, accentuating the rosy blush on her cheekbones. Her eyes were unfocused, staring off into nothing as she panted, still recovering from the orgasm that had just washed over her. As she regained her senses, her eyes flickered to his shorts. Before he could take them off though, she took hold of his hand. Keeping steady eye contact with him, she pressed a lingering kiss to the tip of his index finger before drawing it into her mouth and sucking on it, her tongue drawing slow circles around him, flicking the tip.

As if that wasn’t clear enough, he felt her other hand slip into his shorts, taking hold of him and stroking his erection in time with the movement of her mouth on his finger.

He ripped at his waistband, dexterous hands made clumsy by desire. Cursing, he fumbled with the knot of the drawstring; as he succeeded a soft, amused giggle caught his attention. He looked up. She was lying on her hip, half propped up on her arm as she watched him. Astoundingly beautiful, completely confident as she showed him everything. It was enough to make him feel hesitant as he pulled off his remaining clothes.

A quiet gasp followed by a little smile managed to assuage his anxiety (and pad his ego). With an approving purr, she swayed towards him on her hands and knees, cupping his cheek to kiss him. He watched with rapt attention as she kissed, nibbled, and touched her way down his body in a mirror to what he had done just moments earlier.

Then, lying on her stomach between his legs, she peeked up at him through her long lashes. He stared; how could he not? She stretched out languidly before him, comfortably nude in the firelight. He moaned softly as she took hold of his cock; breathed sharply as she kissed the tip.

It was hot and wet; her tongue followed exactly the same path she traced on his finger moments earlier, her head bobbing slowly up and down in time with her hand, stroking and squeezing just below her lips.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, her mouth still around him. Apparently, the way he looked when he was falling apart, overcome with the pleasure of it and the visual of it and the  _ thought _ of it was amusing to her. It was her turn to torture through pleasure, after all. The corner of her lips quirked slightly. She turned onto her side as she continued to suck and lick his cock, at a pace just shy of enough.

She glanced up at him again to make sure he was watching before slowly groping at her own tits, one perfect mound after another. And then, down the smooth skin of her flat stomach to her sex, where she brazenly stroked, stirred, and rubbed, moaning and sighing around his painfully hard erection as she pleasures herself. It was clear that this was mostly for  _ his _ benefit… another little visual to push him over the edge.

And over he went.

He pulled away, pushing her onto her back.

“Ren. Wait. Do you have…?”

Ren reached into the ‘emergency kit’ for the item he’d shoved to the bottom.

Ann watched as he ripped open the square package. For a moment, she wondered if she should feel mortified that Futaba and Kaname had thought  _ that _ far ahead. Just for a moment, though. He hovered over her again. She kissed him; her legs parted in invitation as she guided him to her. 

He took her in a single stroke; she was already wet and waiting for him. She sighed and gasped softly into his ear as he filled and stretched her, sheathing himself fully inside. She panted softly, clutching the shoulders and back she had spent so much time appreciating. She buried her face against his neck, momentarily tense.

“Ann…?”

A light kiss on his skin. “I’m fine. It feels good… so good. Just…” She looked up at him with a little smile. “...Mm. You’re not exactly easy to  _ accommodate. _ ”

“...heh.”

Ann arched her eyebrow. “If you have time to be smug, you have time to—Ah!”

Ren ground his pelvis against hers; his shaft stretched, rubbed, and pressed inside her in just the right way.

“You were saying?”

“Just shut up and  _ fuck me. _ ” Ann growled, biting his neck.

He started moving; she felt so hot and tight around him. He crushed her against his body with one arm; his other hand sought out hers. They kissed deeply, breaking once in a while to softly touch lips to each other’s skin, interspersed with surprising and mischievous little bites.

Eventually, she gripped his nape, pulling him down so his ear was at her mouth. She gasped quietly at the subtle change to the angle of his penetration; she felt how his movements were becoming more forceful, more needy. But she could also tell he was trying to hold back, determined to make her feel good, first.

_ ‘Silly boy…’ _ She thought, heart thudding away for him. He didn’t know that right now, she was the same. All she wanted was for him to feel completed by her.

“I want you, Ren.” She nipped and licked at his ear, the sounds wet and erotic. Her voice set his mind on fire and chills down his spine. “I  _ need _ you. Don’t hold back. Do what you want with me...”

He reared back, his eyes dark. He gripped her waist almost painfully as his thrusts became increasingly selfish in the way that Ann wanted him to be. Faster, harder, the positive feedback pushing and demanding more and more. She touched herself in full view of him, pinching at her erect nipples, rubbing her clit; she panted and whined her desire for him as his breaths started to sound more like savage growls.

“Faster…! Oh, Ren! Right there…  _ harder!” _

“Fuck… Ann…!”

They cried out in unison, each other’s names on their lips. Her body trembled and spawned as she came; he fell forward in the throes of his own orgasm, her arms looped over his neck; her long legs wrapped around him, trapping him. Keeping him hilted in her as the tight walls of her sex milked and squeezed him.

Ann rained light, tired kisses on his cheek and jaw as he buried his face in her hair. She gently stroked his back and the nape of his neck, crying out as he pumped his hips against her a few more times.

The little sound she made when he pulled out almost made him take her again; his arms and legs wouldn’t  _ quite _ work the way he needed them to, though. Instead, he pulled the blankets back over them, settling them in front of the fire that burned just outside their little enclosure.

She nestled against him, indulging in one more kiss before resting her head on his shoulder. Rain started to pitter-patter against the tarp above them, the white noise of the precipitation mixing with the sounds of the nearby ocean, enhancing the feeling that this was their own private world.

“Raining again…” Ren murmured, sleep starting to take him.

“Mm.” Ann replied. “I used to hate it.”

“Used to?”

“It seems to always bring us together, doesn’t it? I can’t hate something like that…” Ann spoke softly, wanting to preserve the soundscape around them. She fell asleep to the sound of the rainfall and waves; the crackles of the fire and the gentle wind.

>>>

June 1, 20xx 

They didn’t get back to work the next day. Ohya still didn’t have anything for Ann and the other girls, and the text message that Kawakami had sent Ren simply said ‘as soon as possible’. At first, after they woke up early in the morning on the beach, Ren had every intention of going to work just as soon as he dropped Ann off at her place. And then, he had every intention of going to work just as soon as he walked her to the door of her apartment.

“Hm? Really? You’re going to go to work dressed like that, and with sand and salt on you?” Ann asked, innocently.

That didn’t seem like a good idea. So he took a shower. But he was totally going to work right after. Right up until the blonde grid girl stepped into the shower behind him.

Her hands glided over his wet skin. She pressed her body up against his back; one hand drifted across his chest. The other slid down, nearly bringing him to his knees as she started to massage and stroke him with her soapy, slick fingers.

“What? Did you expect me to just sit around, all lonely and  _ dirty _ …?” She purred,  _ not _ so innocently. And that did sound pretty heartless of him. Wouldn’t do to leave her alone. And  _ dirty _ .

So, they didn’t get back to work for another day. In his defence, ‘as soon as possible’ really was open to interpretation.

And when he did show up, it was fairly awkward. Partly because he was coming off a suspension that everyone knew was for spurious reasons. Partly because of the baleful, angry looks that Kamoshida kept shooting at him. Partly because of the way Ann practically capered around him as they walked into the repurposed school, glowing. 

But mostly because of the hickeys Ann had left, quite intentionally, above the collar of his shirt.

Ren smiled slightly at the memory of her faux-shocked expression in the morning.

“Oops.” She said, with eyes exaggeratedly wide. “Guess you’ll just have to go in like that. I have some concealer. That could work. But then you’d be wearing makeup… Oh! That’d be fun. Here, let me…”

Of course, he wasn’t going to work with makeup on. That would just be stupid, and really, he found he didn’t mind being marked by her--

“...ey! Amamiya! Hello?” Kawakami said, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Ah. Sorry, Kawakami-san. I think I got it.” He tapped the list he scrawled down on the notepad in front of him. “I’ll get to work.”

He stood, heading for the door of 2D to head back to the garage.

“There’s one more thing, kid.” Takeda said, gruffly. “I’m still gonna oversee things on a day-to-day basis around here. But after the last finish we had, we lost some sponsors. We need to shake things up… so you’re going to be the crew chief on race day.

“...excuse me?” Ren was frozen, his hand on the doorknob.

“At least for Sugo.” Kawakami sighed. “We’ll start there.”

“How the hell did you get Kobayakawa to agree to this?!”

“The results spoke for themselves.” Takeda handed Ren a binder. “You’ll need this. It’s—“

“Shujin race strategy and the various things you’ve been doing to try to manage Kamoshida.” Ren finished, to Takeda’s surprise. The new crew chief stared numbly down at the ‘confidential’ file.

Ren shook his head. “Kamoshida must be livid.”

“He is.” Kawakami said, shrugging. “But the one thing that supersedes Kobayakawa’s love for his precious nephew is his love for money. We lost sponsors after the last race, and the main difference was that you weren’t working behind the scenes. So… don’t screw it up, Amamiya.”

She eyed the bruises on the mechanic’s neck with a wry smile.

“It would be a bad time for you to get distracted.”

Ren ignored the unfamiliar warmth on his face. He scoffed. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

>>>

June 4, 20xx 

_‘Maybe if we place Fujiwara_ _here… might shave off a few seconds. But then I wouldn’t have him on brakes anymore.’_

Ren furrowed his brow, looking at the tablet he held over his face. Things were easier when he was just able to focus on whatever tasks that Takeda threw at him. This would be more difficult; the management of people as well as the cars. He thought—

“A pretty boy like you shouldn’t frown so much. You’ll get wrinkles.” Ann mumbled sleepily. It was Saturday morning; the blonde snuggled up against Ren’s side, suspended alongside him in the hammock he called his bed. She tugged the blanket up a little more over her bare shoulder before smiling and kissing his cheek. “Morning.”

“Morning.” Ren returned the kiss to the crown of her head before turning back to the tablet. Frowning again.

Ann rolled her eyes briefly, not out of any actual irritation, but out of exasperated affection. Since they started dating, they hadn’t gone on any actual dates due to his new role on the team occupying so much of his spare time. But, she was either staying over at his place, or he was staying over at hers. By now, she already knew that when he was focused like this, the best thing to do was help.

_ ‘It helps that he’s cute when he’s all focused like this, too.’ _

She shifted, looking at the tablet. “Race strategy?”

Ren nodded. “When to call for pit stops, driver changes, etcetera…” He sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Ann idly caressed his chest under the blanket, enjoying the feel of his skin. “You don’t usually look this worried.”

“It’s different from just fixing or tuning the cars. In this case, I have to organize the drivers and the crew, too.” Ren swept his finger across the tablet, bringing up the two driver profiles - Mishima and Kamoshida.

Ann grimaced at the sight of Kamoshida. Even his profile picture was obnoxious. “He’s always the problem, isn’t he? During the first race, he just decided when he wanted to pull over. And then he did the same thing during the second race, too…”

“Normally that kind of behavior would get a driver canned.” Ren said, shaking his head. “His uncle doesn’t understand; he’d rather change everything else than take his nephew off the track.”

Ann frowned. “What’s the issue with unscheduled changes?”

“We do different things depending on the distance traveled and whether or not we’re due for a driver switch. Because we don’t know when or why he’s going to stop, it forces the crew to get  _ everything _ ready. It hurts our efficiency, especially when changing drivers out. It means we can’t alter how the car’s tuned…” Ren tapped Mishima's profile, bringing up some footage of his racing. “Watch how Mishima drives. This is him practicing here at Suzuka.”

The Fairlady Z seemed glued to the track, losing minimal speed through turns.

“...He’s really good.” Ann said, watching. “Why isn’t he that good during races?”

“Partly a confidence issue, because Kamoshida blames him for everything. But it’s partly because we keep having to leave the car tuned for Kamoshida’s driving style.”

Ren switched clips - Kamoshida’s turn, this time. He took the straightaways much faster, but seemed to lose more speed in the turns, often relying on drifts to mitigate the loss of velocity.

“He still drives like he’s doing drift racing.” Ren said, frowning. “It’s incredibly flashy, but it doesn’t work as well in Super GT as staying gripped. Ideally, you’re  _ right _ between the two, on the verge of losing traction. Mishima’s style is to stay more on the side of grip-driving; Kamoshida goes all-out drift.”

Ann’s eyes lit up. “Ah! So, it’s like they have to drive two different cars entirely.”

“That’s right.” Ren said, sighing. “And that’s the issue. Unless we know exactly when he’s coming in, we can’t make the adjustments in time. So Mishima’s been driving a car unsuited to him.”

Ann frowned. “Don’t we have a spare car, though?”

“That’s only for major mechanical failures. If we call for a car switch, we’d have to--...”

Ren trailed off. He dropped the tablet.

Ann scrambled, catching it and putting it down on the nearby shelf - barely managing to not tumble out of the hammock. “Jeez! Be careful!--”

Ren interrupted her, hugging her suddenly, raining kisses on her face and lips.

“You…” Her cheek. “Are…” Her other cheek. “A genius!” A long, passionate, deep kiss. Her eyes closed… she melted against him, mewling softly into his mouth.

They separated. Ann, now pretty much on top of him, stared wide-eyed at the mechanic. She was slightly breathless, in particular from the last one. “I… Uh… wow.”

“You’re a genius. Thank you.” Ren repeated. “I should have seen it. I’ll just… Ann? I can’t reach my tablet.”

Ann arched a delicate eyebrow. She shifted on top of him, so that her legs were on either side of his. “If you’re thankful… well. You don’t just kiss a girl and leave it at that, you know?”

“We’re in a hammock, Ann. This might not end well.” Ren’s protest was clearly only half-hearted, his hands already wandering all over her naked body.

She kissed him as she rocked her hips, eliciting a gasp and groan from her boyfriend.

She grinned. “You’re the genius mechanic, aren’t you? I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

>>>

June 25, 20xx 

It was the day of the race; everything went as usual until Kamoshida started pulling in for an unscheduled pit-stop. Unscheduled, but not unexpected.

“Kamoshida’s coming in! He’s signalling driver change!” Takeda called.

Ren nodded, moving at a jog. “Mishima, you’re up! Exactly as we drilled, Shujin! Let’s move!”

Mishima smiled anxiously. Ren paused, clapping his shoulder.

“You’ve got this. She’s tuned to  _ your _ style. Remember what we talked about, too.” Ren tapped Mishima’s helmet. “Channel 2 on the radio only. It’s secure.”

Kamoshida pulled up, exiting his car. They were in 15th in a field of 30.

“Great work,  _ convict _ .” Kamoshida sneered. “The car’s handling like shit today— are you even listening to me?!”

He wasn’t. Ren was working with half of the pit crew in pushing Kamoshida’s car out of the pit area, while shouting for the other half of the crew to wheel in the spare car.

“The hell are you  _ doing?! _ That’s only for a mechanical failure!” Kamoshida snarled.

“No rule against it.” Ren quickly hooked Mishima up. “Clear!”

“You wasted three times the amount of time for a normal driver switch! Why?!”

Ren jerked his head at one of the screens. “Watch and you’ll see.”

“What’s there to see? Mishima can’t drive worth shit.”

“You sure about that?” Ren smirked.

Shujin’s spare Fairlady Z was tearing up Sportsland Sugo. Mishima shot around corners like his car was glued to the track, completely different from Kamoshida’s flashier style of drifting through turns but far more efficient. He was doing well. Kamoshida stalked away, muttering about how he’d show everyone when he was back in the driver’s seat.

Ren stayed at the monitor, watching Mishima climb up the rankings. Kamoshida was replaced by Ann, wearing a tight red top with cleavage window, miniskirt, and white cropped jacket.

_ ‘Quite the upgrade in company…’  _ Ren thought, his eyes drifting over her.

Ann smiled knowingly. She clung to his arm in such a way that pressed her chest against his deltoid. She made sure she got at least a little blush and a sheepish smile before turning to watch the race alongside him. “Kamoshida looks pissed.”

“Just wait until he finds out that he’s done.” Ren said, shrugging.

“...wait. Like,  _ done _ done?”

“Yeah. The plan was that if Kamoshida drove over a third of the race in one go, we aren’t letting him back in. That’s why Mishima’s radio is set to a secure channel that only I, Takeda, and Kawakami have access to.” Ren said. “It’ll be Yuuki Mishima crossing the finish line today.”

Ann whistled. “Looks like another helmet toss today.”

“At least ten metres, I think.”

Ann looked thoughtful. “Hm. Wanna bet? If it’s under 15, I win. If it’s over 15, you?”

“Stakes?”

Ann grinned. “How about… If I win, then…” She stood on her toes, whispering in Ren’s ear. She’d get at least another blush.

Ren blinked, before smirking. “Sounds pretty good for me, too. Then, if I win…”

Ann turned bright red, her eyes widening as Ren whispered back. She was right about the blush, but not the person who’d be doing it.

>>>

“Are you fucking  _ kidding _ me?!” Kamoshida shrieked, flinging his helmet well over 15 metres. The enraged driver started storming off before the helmet even struck the ground.

Takeda scoffed. “From his reaction, you’d never guess that was our first top-ten finish in over a year.”

Kawakami shrugged. “He can go crying to his uncle if he wants. We finally cracked the code!”

That code being of course, how to have a viable team with a driver who had no interest in actually cooperating with the rest of the team. The team manager approached Ren, a rare smile (at least, rare when sober) plastered on her face. She shook the mechanic slash crew chief’s hand.

“Looks like you’ve got the job for the foreseeable future, Amamiya-kun! Suzuka Circuit’s next! Home field advantage!”

Ren returned the handshake heartily. His smile was dazzling. It wasn’t the same as driving the car himself, but the feeling was closer than he had ever experienced before. And most likely it was as close as he would ever come. And as far as Ren was concerned, it was all thanks to a certain blonde.

“We did it!” The aforementioned blonde shouted, leaping at Ren.

Ren just barely turned in time to catch her, laughing as he spun halfway around from the impact before settling her on the ground. In the background Ohya’s camera whirred and clicked, taking pictures of the celebratory scene overall.

Impulsively, Ren kissed her - in full view of the entirety of the Shujin Motorsport Team. Their relationship was already the team’s worst kept secret, but the two did try to keep a lid on it in public - though really, neither of them were quite sure  _ why _ . Ann relaxed into the kiss, her arms looped over Ren’s neck. They only broke apart as the catcalls and whistles started, sheepishly grinning at each other.

They were quickly joined by Mishima, Megumin, Ayane, and even Mika for more pictures, Ren taking the place where Kamoshida normally would have stood. From the level of celebration (including the sports drink that was emptied over Ren and Ann), one would have guessed that Shujin was the winning team, not the eighth-place finishers.

Ren draped a towel over Ann’s shoulders.

“Thanks, Ann.”

Ann shook her head. “You don’t have to thank me, Ren. We’re a team, aren’t we? And I don’t mean Shujin.”

“Yeah.” Ren smiled, the wistfulness gone - there was simply joy and hope. “I know exactly what you mean.”

>>>

July 11, 20xx 

The next race was less than a month away, in Suzuka City at the famous Suzuka Circuit. The team already knew the track intimately and their strategy was now effectively set (and Kamoshida-proof). So, Ren had more spare time than usual, though Ann was busier with photo shoots and events during the day. Shujin’s stunning success after a year of futility had grown their fan base.

It was a Saturday off for Ann and Ren, and they were spending the evening studying in her apartment. Notes and books were open in front of Ren; fashion magazines in front of Ann. There was a nearly empty bottle of wine between the two of them.

“Hm…” Ann frowned. “Those are the specs for a Dodge Challenger. 2015.”

“That’s right.” Ren said, sitting beside her. He was wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and one sock. A hoodie, his cap, and other sock had been discarded onto a chair.

Ann looked at him expectantly, her face rosy from both the alcohol and anticipation.

Ren took off his remaining sock.

“Oh, come  _ on _ !” Ann gestured sharply. “How does that count as a  _ sock _ ? That was a hard question!”

“Don’t be salty because I’m doing better than you expected.” Ren said, eyeing Ann. She had already lost her skirt and leggings, leaving her in just her underwear and blouse. He gazed hungrily at her long legs, catching a hint of red lace at her crotch before the blonde tugged the hem of her shirt down, glaring at the mechanic. “I even offered to take a handicap at the start, but you refused.”

“You acted like you knew nothing about any of this stuff! I can’t believe my boyfriend hustled me at strip-trivia. Fine. You aren’t a cinephile, so you’re definitely not getting this one. In this movie about the cutthroat world of fashion, this actress stars opposite Meryl—“

“Anne Hathaway.”

“Seriously?!”

Ren smirked. He turned towards Ann, looking pointedly at her shirt.

Ann sighed. But she smiled wryly as Ren sat forward eagerly. She started  _ slowly  _ undoing buttons from the top down. One button revealed her delicate collarbones and pale skin. Another revealed the cleavage between her full breasts. Yet another, more red lace—

Ann’s phone rang.

“Oh! I have to get that. It’s Shiho.” Ann said, springing to her feet.

“If you think I’m going to forget where you were, you’ve got another thing coming.” Ren said, grinning.

Ann accepted the video call, smiling. “Hey, Shiho.”

“Hey, Blondie— whoa. Am I interrupting something?” The ravenette’s eyes flickered down to Ann’s chest.

“!! Nothing at all.” Ann quickly changed the angle of the camera.

Shiho snorted, laughing. The camera now clearly caught Ren in the background, who waved casually, holding his glass of wine.

Ann stuck her tongue out at both Ren and Shiho. “ _ Anyway _ , what’s up?”

“Got great news for you, Ann. After the last race and the recent promotional events, you’ve gained a lot of notoriety. There’s a charity ball being put on by Okamura Foods, and you two have been invited.”

Ren frowned, now standing with Ann. “Wait. ‘You two’?”

“Mmhm. People are buzzing about Ann, but also this mysterious guy she was smooching after the race.” Shiho held up the magazine with the aforementioned smooching. “It’ll be great! If both of you go to this thing, it could really be good for Ann.”

“I don’t know…”

Ann smiled. “It’ll be fun, Ren. You’ll see me in a dress, and we’ll get you into a nice tux…”

Ren made a face.

“You’ll also get a swanky hotel room in Tokyo.” Shiho added. “Just the two of you.”

Ann looked up at Ren, activating her irresistible Disney-eye look. “Pleeeease?”

“Ah, damn. Fine.” Ren said.

“Great! I’ll email you guys the details. It’s next Saturday.” Shiho said. “Sorry to interrupt your evening!”

“Later, Shiho.” Ann chirped, ending the call. She looked at Ren again. “It’ll be fun. Really.”

Ren looked uncertain.

Ann stroked his cheek. “Don’t worry.” She stole his wine, finishing it and putting it down. “This really is good for my career. And besides. You, me, nice hotel room. I’m sure I can make this worth your while?”

“Alright…” He sighed, only somewhat reluctantly now.

“Thanks, sweetie.” Ann kissed his cheek, slinging her arms around his neck. “Now, why don’t you finish these buttons for me? I think I’m done answering trivia for tonight.”

>>>

July 18, 20xx

Ren stood in front of a mirror in the hotel suite he shared with Ann in Tokyo. He was already mostly dressed in his tuxedo; a black on black number with a striking scarlet pocket square and tie. If he could get the damn thing on.

As Ren struggled with the knot, he tried to focus on the fact that this was Ann’s night, and less on where he was. The city brought back too many memories for him - none of them good. It also just felt too crowded, too noisy… too  _ everything. _ Ren frowned. Because of all of that, but mostly the tie.

He let out a frustrated sigh.

“Oh, here. Let me.” Ann said. As she glided into his field of view, she took his breath away again. Like she had every time he laid eyes on her, in that backless dress. It was the same striking shade of red as his tie and pocket square.

“There.” Ann finished up his tie and smoothed out his lapels. She smiled up at him. “You’re a knockout, babe. I’m going to have to fight the other models off with a stick.”

Ren regarded her quietly. Her long hair was down, fashionably styled. Her makeup was done in such a way that enhanced everything that was beautiful… which in Ren’s mind, was literally  _ everything _ . She was completely in her element. As if the Ann he’d seen at the race tracks and promotional events was just a pale shade of the one he had in front of him now.

He shook his head.

“Ren?”

“How does someone like me have someone like you…?” Ren asked, softly. Ann, normally so bold, was clearly surprised by his sudden sentiment. Her gaze dropped away as a demure blush bloomed over her cheekbones. Ren tipped her chin up, kissing her gently.

Ann caressed his cheek with a quiet giggle. “You’re sweet, but that’s my line. We should go. Shiho’s sending a car to take us to the gala.”

>>>

Ren leaned on the bar at the back of the ballroom, sipping his beer.

The grey-haired bartender nodded at him. “Holding up okay, man?”

“Heh. Yeah.” Ren said. When he ordered the beer - just a normal, everyday beer, not a cocktail, or wine, or expensive liquor - he had made an instant friend in the bartender, Munehisa Iwai. Although Ren was in a tuxedo, it was clear that he didn’t fit in from the get-go.

_ ‘Ah! And you’re Takamaki-san’s date? Who are you wearing tonight?’ _

_ ‘...Excuse me?  _ **_Who_ ** _?’ _

_ ‘He’s wearin _ g _ Ermenegildo Zegna.’  _ Ann turned to Ren, winking as she led them down the red carpet and into the charity gala.

Even after they got past the media and flashing cameras, things weren’t much better inside. Generally, Ren was regarded as ‘quaint’, little more than small-town arm candy for Ann as she caught up with the who’s who of fashion and entertainment. It was after the fifth blank expression he received after stating that he was a mechanic for a motorsports team that he politely excused himself to the bar.

“I’ll take two scotch and sodas, please. Oh! Can you use the Macallan 18 year?” A TV executive in an expensive suit asked, with an overly confident grin to his date, an attractive woman in a little black dress.

“Yes sir.” Iwai replied, mixing the drinks. He and Ren watched the man leave; the woman with him glanced back at Ren, giving him the head to toe ogle. She waved her fingers and winked at him.

Iwai grimaced. “A bottle of Macallan 18 goes for almost thirty-thousand yen, not including import fees. And he wanted it mixed with  _ soda _ .”

Ren shook his head, sipping his Asahi. “It’s another world, isn’t it?”

“It really is.” The bartender said, shaking his head. “Makes me wonder what the hell a guy like you is doing here. No offense, man. Just that you and I seem to be cut from the same cloth, you dig?”

“I’ll take it as a compliment.” Ren shrugged. He smiled, waving at Ann as she looked around to check where he was. She was currently talking to some big shot designer. She waved back, grinning. “I’m with her.”

Iwai let out a low whistle. “Really?  _ Damn _ , man.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Ren chuckled. He looked down, feeling something impact the side of his foot.

A remote-controlled monster truck was on its side, whirring away - until the wheels abruptly stopped. Bemused, Ren knelt down, picking up the vehicle.

_ ‘Hm. Custom modifications? Pretty well-done, too.’ _

He looked up, past the bar and into the hallway outside the ballroom. A little boy, no older than eight, stared wide-eyed at Ren, holding a remote control with an antenna. He turned and bolted.

“Hey! Kid, your truck!”

Ren went after him, eventually finding the boy hiding behind a sofa in a sitting room. The boy ‘eeped’ and hid behind the sofa further. Ren stifled a laugh. He theatrically sat down on the sofa, sighing.

“Shame I can’t find the owner of this truck. It’s pretty cool. Too bad it needs some work. I mean, the self-righting function doesn’t even work right--”

“I’m  _ eight _ years old! What do you expect?! And I just finished it yesterday!”

Ren grinned at the kid. He had short auburn hair and wore a tuxedo as well. The elbows and knees of his outfit were a bit dusty, though, like he’d been crawling around. His fear gradually vanished, replaced with curiosity.

“You’re not mad?”

“Nah.” Ren put the truck down on the coffee table in front of the sofa. “I like this kind of stuff. Can you show me how it works?”

“Oh! Yeah!” The kid sat beside Ren, taking out a little screwdriver from his tuxedo jacket. “My name’s Hiro. Hiro Shimizu.”

“Ren Amamiya.”

“So, you were right. I’ve been having trouble with the self-righting function… I tried…”

Ren and Hiro became absorbed in the inner workings of the RC truck. Within the hour, Ren had a compact multi tool out (one of the trinkets he received from Ann while working on the Camaro). He handed a part to Hiro; the boy reinstalled it and screwed the power supply back into the truck. Hiro intentionally placed it on its side before pressing a button on his remote.

With a loud click, a spring loaded piston shot out from the truck’s body, righting it.

“Nice!”

“We did it!”

The two grinned at each other, bumping knuckles.

“Ah! Hiro-kun!  _ There _ you are. We were wondering where you ran off to.” A beautiful young woman with auburn hair that matched Hiro’s stepped into the room, wearing a violet dress. She smiled at the boy, before looking apologetically at Ren. “I’m sorry. Is my cousin bothering you?”

“Ah, not at all.” Ren said.

“Ren-onii-san helped me fix my truck, Haru-nee.”

“Is that so?” Haru smiled. “Well, why don’t you go on and show our mothers? They’re holding onto some dessert for you.”

“Oh!” Hiro sprang to his feet, collecting his truck. “Thanks, onii-san!

“No problem, Hiro.” Ren waved, before looking to Haru. She was looking at him almost  _ expectantly _ …

_ ‘Am I supposed to know who you are…? Well. Tough luck.’ _

“Some party, huh?” Ren said, blandly.

Haru blinked, showing some surprise. But rather than looking offended, she seemed  _ happy. _ She smirked, taking a seat on the armchair kitty-corner to the sofa. “How would you know? Haven’t you been here the whole time, playing with Hiro?”

“Highlight of the party.” Ren shrugged. “I’m just here as my girlfriend’s date.”

“Ah. It’s a bit much, isn’t it?” She sighed. “All these people here for a charity ball, but I can probably count on one hand how many of them actually know about what we’re raising money for…”

“It’s hard to believe that the people here don’t know. The Maldives were hit pretty hard by the hurricane.”

Haru nodded. “It’s a good thing we’ll be donating supplies purchased with the funds raised tonight— why do you look so skeptical?”

“Did anyone  _ ask _ what they need down there?” Ren asked.

“...no, but it’s just basic disaster relief, isn’t it?”

“They aren’t having issues with blankets or clean water or whatever else is in the kits I read about on the website; other governments have already taken care of those things.” Ren pulled out his phone, bringing up a few news articles. “The Maldives makes a lot of their money off fishing and tourism, and both of those sectors were the hardest hit. They need investment, plain and simple.”

“Really. Wouldn’t someone have said something to Okumura, then?”

“Who’d want to disagree with the boss?” Ren shrugged. “And look at who’s making the kits. Either Okumura subsidiaries or business partners. Works out as a nice tax write off.”

Haru frowned. “How in the world do you know so much about this?”

“I came here to support Ann. I figured I should be able to talk about the fundraiser a little… looks like I would have been better served reading about ‘who’ I’m wearing, though.”

Haru snorted. “Too true.” She looked up at the door to the sitting room. “Ah. Takamaki-san, yes?”

Ann stood at the door, her eyes wide. Her gaze flitted back and forth between Ren and Haru. “Er… yes.”

Haru stood, bowing politely to both Ren and Ann.

“It was nice meeting you, ‘Ren-oniisan’.” She said with an amused smile. “You’re quite an interesting person. Thanks again for playing with Hiro. If you’ll excuse me.”

She left; Ann walked over to Ren as the mechanic stood up. She gripped his shoulders.

“Ren. Do you have any idea who that was?”

“Hm? Her cousin said her name was Haru, I think?”

“Yeah. Haru  _ Okumura _ . As in Okumura Foods, the company that’s hosting this event. Her cousin was probably Hiro Shimizu, the boy I spotted earlier. Shimizu as in Kurenai Shimizu, Haru Okumura’s mother. Haru is set to take over the company. In fact, she’s the main organizer of this event.”

“Oh.” Ren blinked, and then paled as he realized what he did.

“Ren? What’s wrong?”

“I may have just told the organizer of this event how the supplies being donated are completely unhelpful except as a tax write off.”

Ann laughed.

“Why are you laughing?! Didn’t I just screw this up for you?!”

“Not really.” Ann said, turning to the door. “She said you were interesting. And she looked pretty happy when she left. I’ll bet she found it refreshing to speak with someone who wasn’t trying to impress her or get something out of her.”

Ann closed the door, walking back over to Ren.

“Ann? Why did you close the door?”

“Oh. Because you made me jealous. She’s pretty, and she got to see what you’re like with children.” Ann draped her arms over his shoulders. From the blush on her cheeks, the model was a little tipsy. “So you need to make that up to me before we head back out.”

>>>

The second half of the evening went better. After they left the sitting room, Ren had loosened up a little, sticking by Ann’s side. While he still didn’t have much to add to discussions about who was wearing what— rather, who was wearing who, his quick wit and dry humour charmed a few people.

The best part (other than helping Ann feel less jealous) was the dance floor, though.

Ann blinked as Ren smoothly took the lead after just a few minutes of instruction from her. She smiled.

“You and ‘movement’...”

“Hm?”

“It’s what Ryuji and Yusuke say about you.” Ann gracefully stepped through a spin before settling into a ballroom frame again with Ren. “That you just understand movement.”

He shook his head. “Maybe that’s a part of it. But I’ve had training.”

“Training?”

Ren chuckled before lowering his voice. “This will sound cliche. But someone taught me in prison.”

“To dance?” Ann laughed.

“To fight.” Ren said. “This old Chinese guy. He was more than a little weird. He saw me getting beat up during my first week and found me later, saying I had potential. He taught me practical stuff, but it was all founded in this weird philosophy.”

“He said that everything - people, objects. We’re all just islands in the current.” Ren lifted Ann’s hand, initiating another spin. “He always said it was better to move  _ with _ that current rather than against it. As far as I could tell, it was some mix of aikido and Wing Tsun…”

Ann smiled, twirling and ending in his arms again. She kissed his cheek. “Makes you a pretty good ballroom dancer, too. You learn fast.”

“If he were here, I’m sure he’d tell you that was part of his philosophy, too.”

The evening drew to a close. On the way out, they stopped to greet Haru and Hiro.

“Aw. You’re going?” Hiro said, frowning.

“Mm. Keep working on that truck though, kid. I’ll look out for your name if you enter it in any competitions.”

Hiro brightened, nodding enthusiastically. “And I’ll make sure I look out for your name! You’re a driver, aren’t you?!”

“Ah. Just a mechanic.”

“But it’s your dream to be a driver, right?”

Ren affected a smile. The kid had gotten him to speak more than he intended while they were playing. “That’s right. I’ll try.”

“Good.”

Haru smiled at Ren. “Thank you for coming, Ren-kun. You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve made some calls. You were right about the Maldives. I’ll be making some changes.”

“Ah, that wasn’t my intention to criticize, Okumura-san—“

“Don’t apologize. And please, Haru is fine.” Her gaze dipped fractionally at his neck; she blinked, blushing slightly as she regarded Ann. “Oh! And uh, Ann-chan, I’ll look forward to seeing more of your work, also. I’m uh… glad you two had a good time here.”

Ann smiled. “Thank you!”

As they left, Ren looked at Ann. “Bit of an odd goodbye.”

Ann glanced at Ren’s neck, where a red mark that matched her lipstick was displayed prominently above his collar. She shrugged innocently, clinging to his elbow. “No idea what you mean.”

Ren frowned, catching Ann’s glance and the beginnings of her mischievous smirk. He turned on the selfie camera of his phone, looking at himself. He groaned.

“Has that been there the  _ entire night?!” _

“Just the second half.”

“Are you serious?!”

“I told you. You made me jealous. So I fixed it.”

The two playfully bickered on their way to the car, not noticing the baleful glare of a familiar face.

Hisamoto Sugimura clenched his fists at his sides. His elbow throbbed; he still hadn’t regained full use of it after Ren dislocated it months ago during his attempted assault on Ann. “Seriously?  _ He’s  _ the one who talked that bitch into backing out of the supply kits? Piece of  _ shit… _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, Ann's drink choice in chapter 2 was indeed intentional foreshadowing


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cutlass: A pirate’s sword. Also a type of classic car.

July 23, 20xx

“Kanpai!”

“Kanpaiiiii!”

“Congrats on getting back to your dream job, Ann!” Ryuji crowed. “And grats to RenRen for the big win in Suzuka!”

Ren laughed. “A bit premature there, Ryuji. The race isn’t until next week. But for the first thing, I agree. Kanpai!” He raised his beer with his free hand. His other arm was around Ann. The group of them were seated in a room at a local karaoke place, sharing drinks and snacks. Ann had just received an offer to return to the runway at an important show in Tokyo in the fall.

Makoto frowned. “But doesn’t this mean you’ll be leaving Shujin and Suzuka City? What about you and Ren?”

Ann smiled. “Ren’s going to follow me to Tokyo as soon as Shinji-san can help him find work.”

“Psssh. Based on your contract, I don’t see why Ren-nii has to work at all.” Futaba said, holding up her phone with the details. “You could go full sugar mama, Ann.”

“!! How did you get that?!”

“Pfft. Please.”

Ren smiled, watching the two girls bicker good-naturedly about Futaba’s latest violation of privacy. It hadn’t been that hard of a decision to leave Shujin. Even though he had been promoted, he was still working for Kobayakawa, which wasn’t ideal. And the situation with Kamoshida was unsustainable - the driver was getting more and more uncooperative and moody, even showing up to work drunk a few times. Ren told himself it was fine; he didn’t really need Shujin anymore if he had Ann. He told himself that he finally had a future worth looking forward to.

He told himself to ignore the feeling that if he had to convince himself so much, then something was wrong.

Was it really okay to leave this life behind? To dare to dream again?

“Hey, RenRen!”

Ren looked up at Ryuji.

“Your turn to sing, buddy. I already picked the song. 9A-5.” The owner of Phantom Tuning grinned.

Ren took the microphone. He raised an eyebrow as the intro started. “Seriously?”

“Yep. Unless you’re… chicken.”

Ann looked at Ren curiously. “I don’t think I’ve heard this one before?”

“You haven’t. And you won’t want to, ever again.” Ren stood up, heading to the front of the group. He smirked slightly at Ryuji’s surprise. “I’m calling your bluff, buddy. Now you’re gonna get the full song.”

Ren took a deep breath.

“...Freeing that hot arm from your robe, you simply stepped out…~!”

>>>

Ann, drunk and giggling, leaned on Ren as they walked to where the Lotus was parked. She sang intentionally off-key.

“‘Don’t stand, that’s enough! Oh God! Please saaaaaave him!’ That song… you were _awful_.”

Ren laughed. He only had one beer, since he had driven. That also meant he had to take care of an extremely buzzed grid girl slash soon to be returning fashion model.

Ann ‘sneakily’ (by drunk standards, which meant painfully obviously by sober standards) slipped her hand into his back pocket. She gave his ass a _hard_ squeeze.

“Rowr.” Ann growled, giving Ren a kiss on the cheek. “My place or yours?”

“Yours, probably. I don’t have a shower.”

“Ooo. Are you coming in with me?”

“You can barely stand.”

“All the more reason for you to come with me… …”

Ann trailed off as the scene in front of her knocked her back into sobriety.

The Lotus was trashed. The windshield and windows were smashed in; the body scratched and dented. Someone - or multiple someones - did a thorough job. Ren wordlessly stepped forward. This was the car he purchased with his brother. The one they painstakingly restored together. He reached out, touching the bent frame.

“What…”

“Oh my God… who would do this…” Ann whispered.

She got her answer a moment later as someone charged out of the nearby alley, breaking a board from a packing pallet across Ren’s back. Another slammed Ren’s head against the body of the Lotus, sending him to the ground. Quickly, he was held down by four of them - one for each limb. A fifth stood by with another piece of lumber.

“No!” Ann ran forwards. She knew if she could knock one of them away from Ren, he’d stand a fighting chance. She reached into her purse. As she passed the alley, she registered a flash of purple and white before she was struck across the face, dazing her. Within seconds, a forearm was in front of her throat, painfully tight.

“Nice to see you again, bitch.” Hisamoto Sugimura hissed. His breath stank of alcohol. “Nice to see your boy toy, too.”

He nodded to his cronies. The one not holding Ren down started kicking the helpless mechanic.

Ann screamed, struggling. “No! Stop it!”

Ren coughed and retched. “Let… let her go! I’m the one who crossed you, aren’t I?”

Sugimura laughed. “You ignorant piece of shit. You don’t even know what you did. My elbow was one thing. But then you went and ran your mouth off to Haru Okumura. She looked into the disaster kits my company was making… found out we were… _taxing_ them a little… and she killed our business venture. I’m ruined, thanks to you. So you owe me.”

“That’s it? _You_ got caught embezzling so you’re beating me up? You fucking—“

Another kick interrupted Ren. He groaned painfully.

“Rude. I’m not done yet.” Sugimura said. He tightened his grip as Ann struggled harder. “Whoa! Looks like this American slut really likes you. How about we play a game, baby? You fuck me right here in this alley, right in front of your boyfriend. If you make it good for me and act like you enjoy it, maybe we _won’t_ break every bone in his body.”

“Fuck you!”

“That’s the general idea! But obviously not what you meant. So we’ll start with the bones, then.” He nodded at his men.

They pried out Ren’s right hand. The fifth one put his boot on Ren’s fingers, applying steady pressure.

Ren grit his teeth - but even the stoic mechanic started to scream from the pain.

“Ann! D… don’t!”

“How sweet. Even though his hands are his livelihood.”

Ann went limp. “...stop.”

Sugimura nodded again. The man stopped crushing Ren’s hand.

“Ren… Ren, don’t look, okay? I’ll be fine. Just close your eyes.” Ann said, her voice breaking.

“Good girl.” Sugimura turned her to the wall, forcing her to bend at the waist. 

“No! Ann!” Ren screamed, thrashing.

Ann placed her hands on the wall. “Just make it quick.”

“Oh, I won’t.” Sugimura released her throat, reaching down to undo his belt and unbutton his pants. With his other hand, he reached for his phone so he could take pictures. As his hands left the blonde, there was a flash of movement, a blinding blue spark and an odd crackling sound.

“AAaaaaAaaugh!!” Sugimura screamed, as Ann jammed the taser she had in her purse (purchased for her by Shiho after the drugging incident) into his open fly.

He collapsed, his body twitched and pants grew wet as he lost control over _all_ his motor function. 

The men holding Ren down startled; reflexively they turned to the new threat, this enraged blonde girl with a sparking blue weapon. They let go of Ren.

A grievous tactical error.

Ann hadn’t really seen Ren fight before. When he rescued her from Sugimura on her first day in town, she was drugged and losing consciousness. Against Kamoshida, Ren barely moved beyond a dodge and a push. His intention at the time was just to get them out of that situation as quickly as possible and that was all he had to do at the time.

She realized that this situation wasn’t that different. There were five assailants - six, including the twitching Sugimura. The status of their escape - the car - was uncertain. So Ren made sure that if they had to escape on foot, they wouldn’t be chased.

Ren sidestepped a kick. He raised his foot, stomping down on the man’s outstretched leg where femur met knee, dislocating the joint and forcing it to bend completely the wrong way. The man’s blood curdling scream rang out over the sickening crunch.

He _really_ made sure.

The mechanic immediately slipped a punch and nudged the passing fist with his shoulder, sending it into the jaw of his companion attacking from the other side. Ren immediately grabbed the outstretched arm of the first man and _pulled_ ; the off-balance man stumbled forward and tripped over Ren’s leg, slamming his face into the Lotus.

He groaned - and then shrieked when Ren’s heel crashed down onto his ankle. Bloody bone split the man’s skin. An open fracture.

The rest of the fight went this way. Ann watched in shock as he flowed like the current he described to her before. This was how he won when she was drugged. He was clearly accustomed to fighting outnumbered - likely a byproduct of his time in prison. He made up for the odds with efficiency and brutality, making sure that none of his opponents had either the physical capacity or willpower to fight back.

Ren slipped an attempt to grab him, responding with a vicious blow that dislocated the man’s shoulder.

The remaining two wilted as Ren turned to them. This was supposed to be easy. Trash a car, beat up some mechanic, get a turn with a sexy blonde. Instead, they cringed as Ren dispassionately ground his sneaker into his last opponent’s dislocated shoulder, drawing a strangled scream and another visceral crunch. Even this merciless action was a calculated move - with this demonstration, the last two men turned tail and ran.

Ren looked to Ann - she was already heading to the car. Sugimura snatched at her ankle.

“You b-bitch. Y-y-you don’t know who you’re messing with— auuuuuugggghhffuuuuck!”

Ann jammed the taser into him again.

>>>

The adrenaline wore off some time later. After they called Makoto to report the entire mess, after they dropped the Lotus off at Phantom Tuning. After the cab dropped them both off at Ann’s place.

Ren emerged from Ann’s bathroom, wearing some comfortable sweatpants he left at her place. As the stress of everything subsided, he started to feel the pain in his ribs and back. With a grimace, he slowly sat down on the edge of her bed. Ann hissed quietly in sympathy, looking at the rapidly forming bruises on his back and flanks. She had already cleaned up and changed; Ren insisted that she go first.

“I’ll get my first aid kit, Ren. Just hang on…”

Ren watched her; she didn’t seem shaken up at all. It wasn’t that he was expecting her to cry or have a panic attack. He knew she was stronger than she appeared. But even he wasn’t comfortable with that kind of violence. It was just… _necessary_. Something that had to be done.

She frowned, rummaging through the kit. “I don’t think I have anything for bruises or contusions. There isn’t really anything on you that we need to bandage. I have ibuprofen and paracetamol. Here.”

Ann opened the bottles, taking out the pills. She reached over, handing them to him; with a quiet curse, she fumbled the small tablets and dropped them onto the floor.

“Ah, sorry. Let me…”

Ren caught her wrist. Her hand was shaking. “Ann…” Of course. After what he had done, she _would_ be scared. “...Maybe I should sleep on the couch. Or maybe I should go home.”

She looked at him sharply, like she’d been struck. “ _Excuse_ me?”

Ren recoiled slightly at the sight. She looked angry, not frightened.

“I… you aren’t afraid?”

“No.”

“Your hand’s shaking…”

“It’s because I’m _pissed_ .” Ann growled. “I can’t believe the way those cops were looking at you until Makoto got there! The questions they were asking, the way they seemed they were a hair away from slapping cuffs on you! _You_ were the victim! I can’t stand it. I can’t stand how people can’t see what I see, how they assume you’re some psychopath just because of your past. You weren’t convicted for a violent crime, but they…”

She continued to rant. Truthfully, Ren was hardly listening. This girl… this girl completely and truly loved him. She had to have been scared. Terrified, even. He had seen it in her eyes. But her feelings and concern for him overrode any of that.

“...it’s just not fair! I’m glad Makoto got there when she did, I—oh!”

Ren hugged her. Almost crushed her. He buried his face in her soft hair.

“Thank you, Ann…”

She smiled, stroking the back of his head and neck as she held him. “No need. You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

He did. And that terrified him.

>>>

July 30, 20xx 

Despite the cloud cover, it was stiflingly hot on race day at the Suzuka Circuit. The humidity surrounded and smothered the Shujin team, making simple tasks feel labored. People were irritable, only adding to the tension that was already thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Where the _fuck_ is Kamoshida?” Ren yelled at Kobayakawa.

The rotund owner of Shujin Motorsports and the uncle of Kamoshida was already sweating profusely in the pit area of the team.

“Watch your language, Amamiya! You can’t talk to me that way—“

“I’ll talk to you however the hell I want! Your useless nephew’s gone AWOL. If we don’t get a driver in the next 10 minutes, we’re disqualified.”

“Can’t we start the race with Mishima-kun?”

“No. Super GT rules. Both drivers need to be present at the start of the race.”

“Suguru will be here!” Kobayakawa babbled, wiping at his forehead. “He has to be here!”

Ren cursed, turning away. _‘Piece of shit. I should have known. He’s been sulking ever since we won the last time. Even Mika isn’t giving him the time of day anymore.’_

Ren glanced at the brunette. She was posing for a picture beside Mishima; her body language was rather _friendly_. Ren rolled his eyes.

“Ren? Are you alright?” Ann appeared at his side.

Ren was upset enough that he barely took the time to appreciate how she looked in her red mini-dress and thigh-high boots, decorated with a checkered flag motif up either side of the dress.

“No.” He snapped. He then sighed, shaking his head. “Sorry. Sorry, Ann. This just means a lot to me. I always told Akira it was my dream to race here. I’ll never sit in the driver’s seat, but today… I’m the crew chief. It’s as close as I’ll get, and…”

She hugged him despite the heat.

“Can’t someone else sub in?”

“I don’t know. Kobayakawa would never agree anyway—“

“Amamiya!” Kawakami ran into the pit area with Takeda. “He’s finally done it! That dirtbag’s finally done it!”

“What?” Ren asked.

“Kamoshida’s been arrested.” Takeda spat. “The idiot was caught with…”

“For what?!” Kobayakawa shouted. “How dare they! They—“

Takeda glowered at Kobayakawa. “He was caught with two intoxicated, underage girls in a hotel room. No older than my daughter. Your precious nephew’s not going to see the light of day for a _long_ time.”

Kobayakawa was stunned. Team Shujin screeched to a halt as the assorted mechanics, staff, and grid girls gathered.

“Then… then we’ll have to forfeit.” Kobayakawa mumbled.

“No. We don’t.”

Ren turned to Ann, surprised as her voice rang out clearly in the sweltering heat. She placed a hand on Ren’s shoulder.

“Ren will take his place.”

Thunder rolled in the distance. The humidity broke; rain started to pour down.

>>>

“Hoo boy… heck of a storm.” Sojiro muttered, looking outside Leblanc’s front window. “Just like the night the kid met Ann-chan…”

He jumped as Futaba, who was studying in one of the booths, leapt to her feet with an excited yell.

“Futaba?!”

“Tou-san! I need a ride to Suzuka Circuit!”

“What?! Why? You don’t have tickets, you—“

“Ann’s going to let us in! Ren-nii’s driving!”

“!! Holy— let’s go!”

>>>

Ryuji and Yusuke stood back, looking over Ren’s Evora. The dents, windows, and other structural damage were repaired.

“Just the paint and detailing, now.” Ryuji nodded at Yusuke.

“Indeed. I believe we should stick with the rather striking matte black from before, but—“

“Hey! What the hell! Why aren’t you idiots checking your phones?!” Kaname sat astride her bicycle at the open garage door of Phantom Tuning, soaking wet. “We need to go!”

Makoto appeared from the office. “Kana-chan? You’re soaked! What are you—“

“Renpai’s driving! He’s taking Kamoshida’s place!”

Ryuji startled. He spun, motioning to Makoto; she threw him his keys.

“Let’s go! We’ll take my Cutlass.”

Makoto’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen - it was the police station. She waved at the others. “Go on! I’ll catch up on my bike.”

“Right!”

Makoto held the phone to her ear.

“This is Niijima. ...wait. What? That’s insane. You can’t—…”

Makoto stood in stunned silence as she listened to the caller. She slowly composed herself.

“I… I understand. I’ll get him. You can send two officers, but tell them not to approach until I give the go ahead. Please. I promise he won’t run, but just… just give us until the end of the day at least. After the race is over.”

>>>

Ren paced back and forth under a pavilion, dressed in the fire retardant jumpsuit of a Super GT driver. It felt too tight. Even though the humidity broke with the downpour, the air still felt heavy. Underneath his glove, his knuckles were white on the helmet he held.

This was his dream.

But his heart wouldn’t settle. His hands shook.

_‘What if I fuck this up?’_

His friends were all in the stands, watching - Ann had let them in. He was thrilled at first. They believed in him. They were ecstatic for him. But it was so different from how he’d lived his life ever since Akira passed… It was the polar opposite to a life without expectations. Completely at odds with just passing his days, waiting for the world to forget about him.

Waiting to die.

With this, he was choosing to step forward. He was daring to live his dream.

“Ren? It’s time.” Ann said, from the entrance of the pavilion. “Mishima’s calling for a driver switch.”

Ren nodded numbly. “Right. Right…” He headed for the entrance.

Ann didn’t move out of the way. Instead, she placed a hand on his cheek. “Ren… how many times have you driven this course?”

“I’ve never…”

“No.” Ann shook her head. “How many times have you driven this course in your simulator? How many times have you driven this in your mind? In your dreams?”

Thousands of times. Tens of thousands. Hundreds of thousands. He knew every turn. Every quirk of the figure eight.

“You’ve got this, Ren.”

“..I love you, Ann.”

Ann smiled; the look she gave him calmed his heart, but made him feel like he was ready to take on the world. “I know. Now, go on.”

Ren walked to the pit area as Ann unfurled an umbrella and held it over them as they walked. It was an iconic image - a beautiful grid girl with an umbrella, a handsome driver with his helmet in hand. They stopped at the boundary to the pit area where Ann could go no further.

She kissed him one last time before he moved in for the driver change. Mishima gave him a high five as they passed.

As he was strapped in, Ren listened to Takeda, who’d taken over as crew chief again.

“We’re in a good position, kid. No one’s expecting a miracle from you. Just try not to fall back, and make sure you stay safe.”

Ren nodded. The door slammed shut. Takeda shouted, raising his hands sharply in the usual signal.

“Pit crew clear! Do it, kid!”

>>>

The announcer’s voice blared over the roar of the crowd.

“And there we have it! Crossing the finish line in first place is Shujin Motorsports, in the Fairlady Z driven by Suzuka City’s very own Ren Amamiya!”

It turned out that no miracle was necessary - just the combined driving skill of Yuuki Mishima and Ren Amamiya, with the brilliant improvised race strategy of Shinji Takeda. Ren’s driving style was far more similar to Mishima’s than Kamoshida was, just riding the line between grip and drift. On top of that, both he and Mishima knew Suzuka like the back of their hands, resulting in their astounding first place finish.

Ren pulled up to the pit area and stepped out of the car, into the downpour. He didn’t bother to go to the covered pavilion. Instead, he took a moment to look up at the falling rain. The water was blessedly cool; it washed away the tears that he knew were there. It was as if the sky itself was joining him in his catharsis.

“Were you watching, Akira? We did it. We did it…”

He looked towards the Shujin Motorsports crew - none of them were approaching him, he realized. Instead, they all looked to Ann, who had dropped her umbrella. With a sparkling grin, she ran to him, threw herself at him.

Laughing, he caught her, spinning halfway around. She nearly crushed him with her hug; his kisses poured down like the rain.

They didn’t say anything. They didn’t have to.

For a moment, the white noise of the crowd and rain intermingled, creating their own little world. A place where there was no past, no future. Just them and this improbable love they found.

For a moment.

“There he is. Ren Amamiya?”

Ren looked up - two uniformed police officers stood there with grim expressions on their face.

_‘I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.’_

He gently detached himself from Ann, moving so that he was between her and the cops.

“That’s me.”

“You’re under arrest for aggravated assault and violation of your probation. You’ll have to come with us.”

Ren nodded. “I understand--”

“No!” Makoto approached quickly; Ren and Ann’s friends were hot on her heels. “This isn’t what we agreed on! I told you, I’ll bring him in myself _after_ , for _questioning,_ like a human being! Not like this! You’re not just going to arrest him like he’s a dangerous fugitive!”

“I’m sorry, Niijima-san. This is above all of our paygrades, now. Sugimura has some friends in high places.”

Ryuji and Yusuke barged in front of Ren.

“RenRen isn’t going _anywhere_ with you!” Ryuji growled.

One of the officers frowned; his hand rested not-so-casually over his Nambu Model 60 revolver. His fellow reached over, halting him.

“Are you nuts?! There’s kids here!” He jerked his head at Futaba and Kaname, who were _also_ standing in between Ren and the officers, now. He shook his head, looking at the people standing in their way. “Though, kids or not, we’re bringing this guy in. I’m not risking my career, Niijima-san. You know what happens when anyone crosses the UFP. Even if it’s over some low-level guy like Sugimura.”

“The United Future Party? What the hell do they have to do with it?” Makoto snapped.

“You aren’t taking him!” Futaba shouted.

The tension continued to rise. While the second officer wasn’t drawing his gun, the first one was on his radio and starting to motion to the nearby security guards.

“That’s enough, everyone.”

Everyone turned to look at the mechanic turned driver.

“That’s enough.” Ren repeated, speaking calmly. “It’s to be expected. I have priors. It’s a miracle that it’s taken a week for anything like this to happen. None of you should have to get in any trouble on my account.”

Ren held out his wrists. The handcuffs were applied. Cameras flashed and filmed; he was the winning driver, after all. The media were already on their way over to interview him for his surprising win. But this was an even bigger scoop. Cameras and microphones were shoved rudely in his face, asking for some comment - to them, the arrest was nothing more than drama and excitement. Ren bore it with quiet dignity, but he nearly crumbled when Ann’s arms went around his waist from behind, holding him tightly. She pressed her head against his back.

He didn’t have to turn back to know that she was crying.

“Ann… Ann, you have to let go.”

He felt her shake her head frantically.

“I won’t! Not until you promise me you’re going to do everything you can to get out. Not until you promise that you’re not just going to give up!”

He didn’t reply, instead just carefully prying her hands off his waist. He turned to his friend and probation officer.

“Makoto? Take care of her, will you?”

The brunette stepped over, taking Ann aside gently.

Ren didn’t dare to look at Ann. If he had, he would have said anything. He would have promised her, just to take away that broken sound in her voice.

But he didn’t want to lie to her.

>>>

August 14, 20xx

Ren was sent to prison while the ‘investigation’ proceeded. Unlike his first arrest, he had the benefit of decent legal counsel in the form of Makoto’s sister, Sae, who had come from Tokyo _pro bono_.

“Without getting into the details of it, Amamiya-san, their case is utter bullshit.” Sae scoffed, sitting across from him in the visitation room. The iron-haired woman gestured at the file in front of her. “CCTV caught large parts of it. They’re largely trying to leverage this on your priors more than anything else. They won’t get a conviction out of this, and even if Sugimura turns this into a civil case, he doesn’t have a chance there, either. Self-defense is fairly obvious. It’s also obvious what that pig was trying to do to Takamaki-san.”

“Then why go through the trouble?”

Sae let out a frustrated sigh. “That’s the bad news part of this, Amamiya-san. The case wasn’t ever intended to win _legally_. They’re trying to destroy your reputation publicly, and they’re succeeding. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but Kobayakawa fired you.”

“I figured Shujin was done, anyway. Kamoshida’s scandal took care of that, and with my arrest, Mishima’s the only driver left.” Ren said, shrugging.

“It’s more than that.” Sae looked at Ren with profound sympathy. “Both you and Kamoshida have been barred from ever working in Super GT again. It’s not a legal issue - it’s related to the racing commission itself. They don’t want the bad press. The only way they’d reverse this is if your previous conviction was overturned.”

After a long pause and no visible change in expression, Ren simply nodded, to Sae’s surprise.

“I see. Will I be released soon, then?”

“Within the next few days. There’s something else, Amamiya-san. It’s about your girlfriend…”

>>>

August 27, 20xx

Ren woke up alone in the attic above Leblanc, early in the morning. It was a restless sleep, as usual. He had the same dream again - the one he had ever since he met Ann after being released from prison.

The dream he’d had every night since they broke up.

_‘Aren’t you supposed to be in Tokyo already?’_

_‘Mm. Shiho said it was fine. It was more important to see my favorite guy, right?’_

_‘That’s pretty irresponsible of you, isn’t it?’_

His tone hadn’t been flirting or teasing. It was callous. Mocking. He rubbed his stubbled chin. He couldn’t remember when he shaved last. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair as he recalled the dream, which was simply a replay of his memory.

_‘You’re just some vapid Tokyo girl. And now you expect me to just come with you and be your pet?’_

_‘I know what you’re trying to do, Ren.’_

She knew him too well. That was the nature of their love, after all. But that love also meant that they knew how to hurt each other. Exquisitely. And Ren had used it without hesitation to drive her away. His words were harsh, biting and stabbing at all of her insecurities, all of the things that she’d trusted him with. And to finish it…

_‘You’re just some airheaded model too stupid to see what dating a convict will do to her career. That, or you’re a worse person than I thought, and you’re going to drag me to Tokyo until you get bored of me. Either way, you’re going to dump me - either when you figure out that hurting your career, or when you get tired of me. And then you’ll be right on the next interesting ‘bad boy’ you can find. Didn’t take you that long to jump into bed with me, didn’t it?’_

She’d been shocked. Whatever she was going to say - whatever she was going to do to try to stop this died on her lips. Especially at his next words.

_‘I never really loved you anyway.’_

In his dream, she slapped him.

That made it a good dream - better than the reality, anyway. In reality, at those last words, she just looked at him with such profound hurt in her eyes that he had wanted to throw himself at her feet and beg her forgiveness.

But he held fast. He walked away. He had to.

Sae Niijima told him everything. Ann’s return to the world of fashion was getting tainted with the story of his very public arrest and subsequent incarceration. The articles being printed were less focused on her work and more on the ‘mysterious bad boy’ that she was dating. While she still had a job waiting for her in Tokyo, there was pressure on Ann to cut ties with him.

He couldn’t be responsible for taking her dream away from her, nor did he want to burden her with the decision. So he ended it. Coldly and callously, so that she’d forget him and move on.

So he had told himself for the past two weeks, living off his savings and doing little other than waiting until it was an appropriate hour to start drinking. The appropriate hour seemed to come just a little earlier each day.

His phone buzzed.

**RS: Hey RenRen. It’s been two weeks, man. Can you come and do something with the Camaro? If you’re not gonna sell it, then at least come and sign it over to me so I can do something with it**

Ren sighed. He supposed it was unreasonable to just leave it there indefinitely. And, he hadn’t been out in awhile. It would be good to see a friendly face.

>>>

“Dude. You look like shit.” Ryuji said generously.

Ren just nodded absently, his eyes settling on the Camaro. It was almost completely restored. On the outside, the vintage car was a stunning scarlet with a stark white racing stripe down the middle, as if the car had just driven fresh off the lot in 1970’s America. On the inside, the vehicle had not only its supercharged LT4 engine, but also all the accoutrements of a modern vehicle, right down to Bluetooth functionality. It was a car built expressly to the preferences of its owner, Ann, but she’d left before they could finish the last bit of work.

“Let me know if you need anything, RenRen.” Ryuji patted Ren’s shoulder - his unoccupied one, anyway. Mona sat on the other. The cat had stuck to him like glue ever since Ann had left for Tokyo.

Ren headed over to the Camaro. He sat down on the driver’s side, placing his hands on the wheel. There were so many memories tied up in the car. Just like the Lotus.

_‘How am I supposed to just sell this, Ann? I can see you in every centimetre of this.’_

As he considered his options, Mona reared up from his seat on Ren’s lap, pawing at the sun visor.

“Myaaa?”

Ann had once included Mona on their little game of exchanging gifts through the Camaro, leaving the cat a little bag of dried shrimp treats under the visor. The tuxedo cat had never quite forgotten.

“I’m sure she didn’t leave anything, Mona. But it doesn’t hurt to check.”

He pulled the sun visor down and was surprised by a small envelope that dropped into his hands. It was addressed to him, the writing clearly Ann’s hand. Inside the envelope was a letter and a key. He slowly unfolded the letter, feeling his heart start to race. The paper smelled like the perfume she liked.

_Ren,_

_First of all, you’re a terrible liar. I could see that it was killing you, the things you said to me. And I know why you_ _think_ _you said them. You think you’re protecting me._

_But isn’t the truth that you’re punishing yourself?_

_I could see it the moment those policemen came for you. Before they arrived, you dared to dream; you dared to hope. And then you saw your friends try to put themselves in harm’s way for you. You didn’t want to be responsible for them - or me - in the way you feel responsible for Akira._

_I think it’s unfair, Ren. It’s unfair of you to look at all of us like a burden. We’re more than that._ _You’re_ _more than that. From what you’ve told me about Akira, I don’t think he’d appreciate it either._

 _Remember how you said everyone deserves a future where there’s so much joy that they don’t have time to remember the sad things? Why can’t you see that for everyone to have that future,_ _you_ _need to be there, and you need to be happy, too?_

_So if you decide to stay in Suzuka City… remember that, okay? Be happy._

_That brings me to the second thing. If you’re reading this letter, that means you managed to drag yourself out of Leblanc. If you’ve come this far… I hope you’ll come a little further. This is a key to my apartment in Tokyo._

_No matter what you decide… Remember this:_

_I’m still not done falling in love with you, Ren Amamiya._

_Yours forever,_

_Ann_

Ren shook his head as he finished reading, sinking back into the seat with a sigh. “We don’t deserve her, Mona.”

Mona meowed, almost sounding reproachful.

“Sorry. _I_ don’t deserve her.” Ren got out of the car, looking up as Ryuji approached.

“Did you know about this?” Ren waved the letter.

“Hm? Oh, no. Don’t know anything about a letter and a key.”

“I didn’t show you the key—“

“Anyway, RenRen. Got some bad news.” Ryuji sighed theatrically. “I can’t offer you any regular work here after all. The recession and everything. Looks like there’s just no reason for you to hang out here at Phantom Tuning.”

“ _Really_.” Ren said, suspiciously.

“Mmhm. Yep. Recession, mortgages, blue chips, stock downturns etcetera. It’s really complicated. Anyway, maybe you can check with Shinji at his new gig over at Honda? He started working there after Shujin lost you and Kamoshida. Said he wanted to see you when you finally showed your face, anyway.”

“Right…”

Makoto and Yusuke approached, emerging from the office.

“Ah! Ren!” Yusuke passed a shopping bag over to Ren.

“What’s…” Ren looked inside and found non-perishable snacks that both he and Ann liked, as well as a few gift cards for gas stations. “I haven’t decided to go yet, you know.”

“Go where?” Yusuke looked puzzled. “I merely had this selection of items cluttering my workspace by happenstance.”

Makoto nodded. “Yusuke decided they didn’t spark joy. Oh. And on a completely unrelated note, here’s an updated copy of the conditions of your probation. It turns out you can go where you want in Japan so long as you let me know where you‘re going. In case you were wondering. For no reason.”

Ren rolled his eyes. “I’m going to see Shinji. Unless anyone else has something to say?”

“Nope! Seeya, RenRen.” Ryuji watched Ren leave. With a little grin, he took out his phone, sending a few texts ahead of the mechanic to Shinji Takeda and Sojiro Sakura.

>>>

In the evening, Ren sat on the beach - Akira’s beach - on the outskirts of town. He watched the sun dip below the horizon; the stars revealed themselves on the curtain of the summer night. Ren glanced back at his car. It was a warm night, so Mona slept on the roof of the Lotus. Inside the vehicle, multiple shopping bags just like the one given to him by Yusuke sat at the foot of the passenger seat. He smiled ruefully. Ryuji was just the start.

_‘Sorry, kid. I don’t have any work for you here. Honda won’t let me bring anyone in. I’ve got a few contacts in Tokyo, though, if you’re interested for whatever reason. Oh. And my wife thought you’d like these pastries. You know. The ones that Takamaki-san likes, too.’_

_‘Oh! Hey, Renpai. At my last judo tournament, the sponsors gave the winners this crap. What am I gonna do with a men’s travel kit? Do I look like I need to shave? Here. You take it. You look awful. You should make sure you’re looking your best. Just in general, of course.’_

_‘Ah… hey, kid. Sorry. I’m going to need you to move out of the attic. Renovations again. Crazy, right? If your new ‘landlord’ needs a reference, let me know. Though, I doubt it’ll be necessary. Heh.’_

_‘Ren-nii. Sorry that Dad’s kicking you out. Let me help you pack. Oh, hey, look at that. The news feed on your laptop is showing you the most romantic spots in Tokyo. Weird, huh?’_

Every one of his friends was all but shoving him into his car for the drive to Tokyo. But it wasn’t so easy to just pick up and leave.

First of all, there was the reason why he’d said those things in the first place. Much had been made in entertainment news of the fashion model turned grid girl turned back to fashion model’s relationship with a ‘hardened criminal’. He didn’t want to turn Ann’s life into a circus.

But she clearly didn’t care, as evidenced by the letter. And a quick Google search showed him that ‘Ann Takamaki’ was still headlining a fashion show in September. Her fans from _both_ her careers were also staunchly defending her, boycotting any news outlet that tried to paint her in a poor light. Apparently, their relationship hadn’t been _that_ harmful to her.

Second of all, his life was _here_. Suzuka City was all he knew. He had been born here; he grew up here. His work was here. His friends were here.

But they had all gently pushed him away from the city. They had made things clear to him - there was nothing left for him here, in his hometown. They all cared about him - enough to tell him to go.

So as Ren stared out at the inky black water, the surf gently lapping at the beach, he realized that there was only one reason left for him to hesitate at all.

_‘Is this really okay, Ren? Just passing your days like this?’_

“...Is this really okay, Akira? To leave you behind like this?”

Of course, there wasn’t a response. Just the soft sea breeze and the surf. Ren sighed, standing up to leave. He’d go back to Leblanc and finish packing - Sojiro was still renovating, after all - and think about it.

A faint glimmer caught his eye in the waves - some flicker of glowing blue. Mystified, he stepped towards it.

“Couldn’t be…”

He kicked off his shoes, moving to wade into the water.

As his foot broke the surface, the sea _spoke to him_.

Brilliant light rippled and exploded out where Ren stood; the bioluminescent bloom turned the night sea into an ocean of iridescent blue stars. The light waxed and waned with movement; as the waves struck his shins, the light flared up around him. Ren stood in awe, knee-deep in a rolling sea of aqua-blue neon. Each time the light started to die down, another wave came, stirring up the glow once more. He stood surrounded by this liquid galaxy, a dynamic luminescence rivaling anything in the sky above him. 

_‘I wouldn’t have believed him if he hadn’t shown me the pictures… The waves glowed blue in the night.’_

“Seriously…? Is this your answer, Akira?”

A particularly rough wave soaked Ren from the hips down, nearly knocking him off his feet.

“Damnit! Alright, alright!”

Ren’s laughter echoed on the deserted beach, seeming to return right back to him. As he turned, he felt the wind at his back, the waves on his calves.

It was his final push to go where he belonged.

September 3, 20xx

“Great job, Blondie! You knocked ‘em dead!” Shiho hugged Ann backstage at the conclusion of her first fashion show in almost a year.

“Thanks, Shiho.” Ann mumbled; she craned her neck past her agent and best friend, trying to get another glimpse at the crowd.

Shiho sighed. “Sorry, Blondie. I checked the guest list. He never used the ticket I sent him.”

“Oh… It’s fine, Shiho. Thanks. Are you going to the after-party?” Ann asked, unable to keep the disappointment off her face. The blonde had hoped to see his face in the crowd; she was so sure that the letter, key, and the ticket sent later by Shiho would have been enough to get him to Tokyo.

“I am.” Shiho said, looking over Ann. “If your boy isn’t coming, then someone’s going to have to keep people off of you.”

Despite her mood, Ann smiled slightly. She _did_ look fantastic. Her long hair was tied back into a beautiful French twist; she wore a red, asymmetric corset-style dress that clung to her perfectly, revealing her toned shoulders and pale decolletage. She gave Shiho a little spin, accentuating the slit that went up to the middle of her thigh.

“Not bad, right?”

“To say the least. Head on out, I’ll have the car brought around.” Shiho said, waving. She took out her phone. “I’ll meet you out there.”

Ann left the event center in Shibuya, smiling and posing for the cameras on her way out while giving polite, friendly responses to questions from reporters.

“You’re heading to the after-party, aren’t you Takamaki-san? Who are you wearing?”

Ann blinked; she suppressed a laugh as she involuntarily recalled Ren’s bewildered expression when someone had asked _him_ that. She smiled. “Ah. Ralph and Russo.”

Eventually, the blonde made it to the curb, where she waited for Shiho and the car. She looked around one more time - she hoped she’d see him, sticking out like a sore thumb in his worn jeans, motorsport t-shirt, and beat-up sneakers. She hoped he’d walk up with that little smirk, the one that drove her crazy in all the right ways. Or maybe it would be the sheepish smile he had when he was in an awkward situation, the one she found so adorable. The red carpet would probably count as awkward, for him.

But there was nothing but the flash of cameras and a gaggle of chatting celebrities, models, and fashion reporters.

A red-coated valet approached her with a polite smile.

“Ah, Takamaki-san? We’ve brought your car around.”

Ann frowned. “I’m sorry? I didn’t drive, you must be mis...taken…”

She trailed off as she looked at the car that the valet was pointing to.

It was a brilliantly restored 1970 Camaro SS. Scarlet, with a white racing stripe down the middle. The chrome accents were polished to perfection. She walked over to the car, opening the door. Inside, she saw the modern instrument panel, the red leather seats she _insisted_ on having, despite Ren advising cloth for easier upkeep. It definitely looked like the car she had spent so much time on with Ren. But such was the state of her disbelief that she needed to _hear_ it. She sat down, depressing the clutch and reaching for the ignition.

The empty ignition.

She smiled slightly. Of course. Their little game. Ann checked the glove box first - empty. She then pulled the sun visor down, deftly catching the keys that tumbled down. Something unusual was on the keychain with the keys; certainly smaller than most keychain ornaments. Ann gasped, her hand going to her open mouth.

It was a ring in white gold, paved with small sapphires along the band that reminded her of raindrops. And in the middle of them, a single sparkling diamond.

Her head snapped up to the valet. “Who dropped the car off? Where did he…”

The valet was gone. In his place, Ren stood just outside the driver’s side door, wearing the same tuxedo he wore for the Okumura charity gala. He still stuck out like a sore thumb in this gathering of celebrities and the who’s who of fashion. Not so much for his looks - he was objectively handsome, even if he didn’t think so. But he smiled at her sheepishly, clearly feeling like he didn’t belong.

“I got your letter.”

“Mhm…” Ann nodded. She stepped out of the car, standing in front of him. She clutched the keys tightly in her hands to stop them from shaking.

“And the key, too.” Ren mumbled, a faint blush appearing on his cheekbones as people started to take note of the dazzling model, the classic car, and the uncomfortable mechanic.

She peered up at him. He started to ramble. He seemed anxious. But in Ann’s eyes, the rest of the world seemed to fade away; he came into such sharp focus that she could have studied each individual radial ridge of his grey irises.

“...Well. I’m not the _most_ traditional guy out there, but I like to think my mom raised me and Akira properly before she passed on. So if you like the ring - well, not that the ring is _really_ the important part… I mean. Since we’re going to be living together anyway. ...No, that’s not right. It’s not a convenience thing. Not that I’m saying living with you would be _inconvenient_. It would actually be the opposite.”

Ann giggled softly. He was so cute. He had no need to be nervous.

“Can you please say something, Ann?”

After all, they already belonged to each other. She didn’t say anything, instead opting for the far better option of throwing her arms over his neck and kissing him with three weeks of pent up want and love. She kissed him until she felt him relax; felt his arms hold her against himself, so that she hardly even needed her own legs to stand anymore.

Ren stared at her, breathless.

Ann smiled up at him; it was easy for her to ignore the camera flashes and the interest of the crowd around them. All she could see right now was _him._ And she could see that he felt the same.

“Can you say it now, Ren?” She detached the ring from the keys, pressing it into his palm.

He nodded. He took her left hand, slipping the band onto her ring finger.

“I promise you, I’ll make you happy.”

She hugged him before wiping at the tears in her eyes, smiling through them.

“Please take care of me from now on.” She grinned. “Traditional enough for you?”

“Perfect.” Ren murmured. He glanced around; the flashing cameras hadn’t stopped, and actually seemed to be multiplying in number. “Want to get out of here?”

“Let’s go home…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In modern Japan, people do outright say “Will you marry me?”. But I like the idea of being indirect. So “I promise you, I’ll make you happy.” / “Please take care of my from now on.” is meant to imply, “I’ll make you happy for the rest of your life.” / “Please look after me from now until forever.”.
> 
> I included a picture here of the bioluminescent bloom because honestly, I didn’t think my words did it justice.
> 
> The song Ren sings in karaoke is ‘Champion’ - the song frequently featured in Hajime no Ippo.


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terminology:
> 
> None
> 
> NSFW warning

December 25, 20xx(+2)

“Myaaaa?”

Ryuji blearily opened his eyes to the sight of an inquisitive tuxedo cat, sitting beside his head on his pillow. He sighed.

“Seriously, cat-bro. Do you wake RenRen and Ann up like this?”

“Miaow!”

“Filthy lies.” Ryuji chuckled. He glanced over to his left. His wife was still asleep. Understandable - Makoto really let loose at the party last night. The two of them had flipped a coin to see who would be allowed to drink; the other would have to babysit. He leaned over, kissing her cheek.

She grimaced, weakly swatting at him. “Nnngh… sentiment… ‘ppreciated. Head hurts too much for kissing…”

“Does it hurt too much for thick, greasy bacon~?”

Makoto groaned. She shoved her head under the pillow. “Get out. And check on…”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got him.” Ryuji said, gently. He kissed her exposed shoulder this time. “Take your time. I’ll have water and an aspirin waiting.”

“...love you.” Her voice was muffled, but still audible.

Ryuji gathered Mona up in his arms. He carefully stepped over his tuxedo and Makoto’s dress from last night before closing the bedroom door behind him.

“Come on, man. Let’s check on the boss.”

Ryuji went down the hall, quietly entering another room. He peered inside the crib.

“Hey, Ryuto… Still asleep?”

Mona purred quietly in the presence of the youngest Sakamoto. He slipped down from Ryuji’s arms, snuggling in beside the child. The one year-old smiled happily in his sleep. He seemed to settle even deeper into his slumber.

“...Heh. You’re going to be a godsend when those two start their family, aren’t ya?”

>>>

“Kana-chan, when should I order the chicken? My dad’s coming over at five, but are your parents back from work then? Kana-chan? Hello?” Futaba looked up from her laptop. She was sitting on Kaname’s bed; the orange-haired girl had slept over after last night’s party.

Kaname startled in her seat at her desk. She was on her phone. “Ah. Sorry, Futaba. I was… er, I was waiting for a text. ...From Renpai. To make sure he and Ann-nee arrived safely. It’s the first time he’s flown internationally.”

“That’s true. He couldn’t, before! But his record is clear, now.” Futaba grinned. “Really, I don’t see why you’re so…”

Futaba eyed Kaname. The judoka’s eyes flitted away; she quickly hit the home button on her phone. She turned her face in a vain attempt to hide her blush.

“Oh. I see.” Futaba’s grin only grew to Cheshire-cat proportions. “Who are you  _ really _ texting?”

“No one!” Kaname quickly shoved her phone behind her back.

Futaba shrugged. She opened another window on her laptop, typing a few short commands. “A no one named… Kaoru Iwai? Sounds cute.”

“He isn’t!”

“Oh. He is. Found his picture. Didja meet him at the wedding?”

“Futaba, I swear to--”

“I found his elementary school pictures, too.”

“...Can I see?”

“If you answer my question first. When does your dad get back? The fried chicken won’t order itself, you know?”

>>>

“Come on, guys! Pack it up!” Takeda yelled, waving his hand. “We’re in the off-season! How the hell are we still all here?”

“You’re the one who insisted we take an hour lunch for fried chicken and cake, boss!”

“I’ll fry  _ you _ if you don’t get back to work, Mishima!”

Yuuki just grinned, tipping his baseball cap to the crew chief. The driver was helping out with some off-season work. Unlike Kamoshida before him, Yuuki Mishima and his new partner weren’t above getting their hands dirty.

Takeda rolled his eyes in mock irritation. But really, he was happy. Mishima’s confidence finally matched his substantial driving skill. The dynamite combination had led their motorsports team to the top of the GT300 rankings for the year, clinching the prestigious championship title.

“Like night and day, isn’t it?”

Takeda turned to Kawakami. He smirked - the team manager had sunglasses on, indoors, and she was working on her fifth cup of coffee for the day.

“Yeah. Mishima’s really turned it around. How’s the hangover?”

“Oh, it’s great.” Kawakami sipped her coffee with a grimace. “Me? Not so hot.”

“Good thing it was a private function, Kawakami. It would have been a pretty big scandal for the team manager of Phantom Racing to be photographed hitting on everything with two legs. Sakamoto was worried that his wife was going to knock your head off when you grabbed his ass.”

Kawakami coughed. “...At least Ohya stopped me before I could do any more. Where is Sakamoto, anyway? I hope he didn’t quit.”

“Of course not. His wife’s sick, and someone has to look after their kid. We don’t need our chief mechanic today, anyway.” Takeda shrugged. “For once, everything’s squared away. When was the last time we’ve had an off-season this organized?”

Kawakami looked around at the repurposed school. The former headquarters of Shujin Motorsport had been purchased by Okumura Foods, and then turned into Phantom Racing. Everything was cleaner and more efficient.

“Never.”

“...! Shit!”

Kawakami and Takeda turned around. The curse had been out of surprise, from one of the mechanics who had just caught sight of something  _ unusual _ .

The hood of the spare Nissan GT-R, freshly painted by Yusuke Kitagawa, was brought out for installation on the car. The body work expert stood proudly beside his work - a smiling lobster, one of the mascots of Okumura Foods, adorned it in vivid orange-red on an ocean blue backdrop.

“Your honest opinion, if you would?”

>>>

“You asked him to paint  _ what _ on the hood of the spare car?!” Haru gasped, nearly spilling her coffee. 

She was hanging out with Shiho the day after the wedding. After Ren and Ann moved to Tokyo together, Haru had reconnected with them both - and was quickly drawn into the frequent shenanigans of the rest of the Suzuka City ‘family’, despite the geographic distance. The heiress had fit right in, becoming fast friends with everyone - including the cheeky ravenette sitting across from her.

Shiho grinned. “I just wanted to see if he’d do it. I told him  _ you’d  _ really like it.”

Haru coughed; a rosy tinge colored her cheeks. “Ah. Well. Did he do it…?”

Shiho turned her phone around, showing the heiress, sending them both into peals of amused laughter.

The agent sighed, smiling. “Heck of a party, huh?”

“Mm.” Haru said, smiling. “Ann-chan was absolutely beautiful in that dress. And I didn’t think Ren-kun would cry publicly like that…”

“Heh. Yeah. Champ’s a big softie deep down… So. You sent them to your resort in the Maldives as your present to them?”

“That’s right.” Haru nodded, and then chuckled, sipping her coffee. “Funny enough, that resort wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for meeting Ren-kun, anyways. I wouldn’t have gotten the idea to invest in it if I hadn’t met him.”

“Funny how these things work out.” Shiho shrugged. “Hope they’re having fun.”

>>>

“Papers, please?”

Ren fought to keep a calm smile on his face as he handed his passport over to the customs officer at Male International Airport, located on Hulhulle Island of the Maldives. Ann patted his arm, smiling up at him reassuringly. Her passport had already been stamped.

The officer was a stern-looking man with a beard. He glanced up at Ren with a carefully neutral face, before looking back down at the picture. And then back up again.

_ ‘How many times do you need to do that?!’  _ Ren wanted to yell.

“Here you are. Enjoy your stay in the Maldives.”

Ren breathed a sigh of relief, taking hold of his passport.

The customs officer’s hand tightened on the book. His eyes widened. “Wait. You. I recognize you!”

_ ‘Shit. Here it comes.’ _ Ren thought. He should have known it wouldn’t be so easy. Even if his record had been expunged, there was probably some database somewhere that had him flagged as a convicted felon. He was going to be thrown into a holding cell and deported back to--

“You’re this year’s Super GT champion! Ren Amamiya, from Phantom Racing!” The stern man broke out into a toothy grin, laughing. He let go of the passport, instead shaking the hand of the bewildered driver. “I should have guessed! The dark-haired Japanese driver dating the famous model, Ann Takamaki! Your passport doesn’t say Takamaki though, miss…”

Ann smiled happily. “Ah… That’s because it’s Ann Amamiya now, actually. Just married.”

“Well! Congratulations, then! Oh. Would you two mind signing some autographs? I…”

Ren, eyes wide, still pale, numbly signed various items before posing with a selfie with the customs officer. And then a selfie with the officer  _ and _ Ann. And then a formal picture with  _ all _ the customs officers, with himself and Ann.

“Did that just really happen…?” Ren muttered. They waited for their suitcases by the luggage carousel.

“You’d think you would have gotten used to it by now.” Ann teased. She reached up, fondly patting his cheek. “My dashing Super GT champion.”

Ren smiled uneasily. The brush with customs still bothered him.

During the course of Sae Niijima’s investigation and his defence against Sugimura, the attorney had turned up certain inconsistencies in his original conviction. Specifically, his written confession outlined how he had stolen the car, using a sophisticated computer program to hack the car’s onboard computer… But the actual physical evidence pointed to a far more primitive, traditional ‘hot wiring’.

It didn’t make sense, unless the evidence had been fabricated in anticipation of Ren  _ not _ confessing. 

At Ann’s urging, Ren finally relented, allowing Sae to present the findings to someone she trusted. Some young politician in the opposition party… a woman by the name of Reiko Takahase. She fearlessly spearheaded an investigation into his case and several others like it during the UFP’s election year, finding numerous reckless arrests and fabricated evidence. She didn’t let up until every person affected by this had justice.

Long story short, Ren’s conviction was completely overturned and the case thrown out due to tampering by the arresting detective, some up and coming guy named Akechi. Ren found himself eligible for Super GT again. And best of all, this was done without soiling Akira’s good name, as Ren had feared.

But police officers - really, any law enforcement - still gave him the creeps.

“It’s a lot to get used to.” Ren admitted.

“You’ll get there.” Ann squeezed his hand. “Though, it makes me a little sad. It gets harder and harder for me to hide how great you are. What if some other girl catches your eye?”

Ren laughed. “Never happen. And you’re clearly fishing.”

She winked at him. They had both gotten changed on the plane (Ren had to get used to first class too, apparently). Ann was dressed for a warm vacation in her simple white sundress. Aviators were tucked into her hair; the bright red straps of the bikini she wore underneath drew his eyes the most. That one looked new.

“Mm. Did I catch you, then?” Ann asked. She knew exactly where he had been looking.

“Hook, line, and sinker.” Ren kissed his wife.

“You’re grinning.” Ann poked his cheek. “Like,  _ really _ grinning. You didn’t even look this happy when you won the GT.”

“Because I just thought of you as my wife.”

“Such a softie.” Ann giggled. “Ah. There’s our luggage.”

Evidently, there was more to get used to. Before Ren could heft the suitcases off the carousel, they were met by a representative from Haru’s resort. Apparently the stay came with ‘unpacking service’, which meant they wouldn’t see their suitcases again until they were about ready to leave the resort to go home. The luggage was quickly loaded onto a truck that left ahead of the newlyweds, who followed behind in the town car sent by the resort.

“This way, everything’s there and waiting for us. It seems a bit excessive, but it’s pretty nice.”

Ren raised an eyebrow at Ann. She was taking this all in stride.

“I was wondering why you looked so relaxed after flying back from Paris.”

Ann shrugged. She pecked his cheek lightly before taking hold of his hand and leaning against him.

The car took them to a nearby dock - it was a short trip via boat to get to the main resort. The water was so clear that it seemed to almost sparkle, catching the afternoon sun perfectly. It was mesmerizing. But then again, so was Ann. 

While she was more used to this level of luxury, her excitement only grew as they arrived. She kept looking up at him, either to make some enthusiastic remark or to just smile at him. The cerulean of her eyes put the water to shame - even more so when they lit up on being called ‘Ann Amamiya’ at check in.

They were led down the boardwalk towards a series of the water villas that made the Maldives so famous. Each villa was built on stilts right over the shallow water of the Pacific atoll, with stairs leading right down into the temperate water.

“I hope we get the one at the end!” Ann pointed. The last villa only had one neighbor; the other side was simply ocean.

The concierge just smiled secretively. He led them instead down some steps to another boat.

“Aren’t we staying here?” Ren asked.

“Not quite, sir. Right this way.”

The man piloted them away, around to the other side of the small island to a secluded lagoon, out of sight from the main resort. In the middle of the lagoon stood a detached villa, surrounded on all sides by the shallow tropical water. The concierge grinned at Ren and Ann’s simultaneous gasps.

“Oh my God…” Ann breathed.

Ren shook his head slowly. He glanced at Ann; apparently this was even out of her usual scope.

“This is Ms. Okumura’s private villa.” The concierge said.

“...I think we’ll need to send Haru a bigger thank you card.” Ann said, awestruck.

It didn’t take long for the concierge to show them around. The villa was single-level; the entire place could be made open plan through the use of cleverly designed partitions. A large deck and small pool overlooked the endless expanse of the Pacific. The lagoon’s water was less than a metre below the level of the deck.

Neither of them noticed the concierge leave.

“...so, what now?” Ann turned to Ren. She idly fidgeted with the skirt of her dress.

“I think I’ll just make sure all of our things are here.” Ren replied, still in a state of shock. It was like they stepped into a dream. Such was his disarray that he didn’t notice his wife’s disappointed pout. And as he turned towards the bedroom, he certainly didn’t notice the pout turn into a little mischievous smile.

“I mean, it would be inconvenient if they forgot something. We’d have to call, and then wait for a boat—…”

Something white fluttered through the air, landing just in front of his feet. Ann’s sundress. It was followed immediately by the sound of a splash.

He wasn’t worried; this past year, Ann had learned how to swim. Ren walked back out to the deck, looking over the side.

Ann resurfaced. If Ren has been drinking something, he would have performed a spit take.

Her bikini top bordered on scandalous. Bright red and skimpy, with some extra straps that seemed to serve no practical purpose beyond highlighting what the top was intended to cover up. Rivulets of water streamed down the upper slopes of her breasts, just visible above the water. His mouth went dry as he looked past the refraction of the clear water.

The top made him suspect that for the matching bottom, it wasn’t a question of how  _ much _ it covered, but how  _ little. _

As usual, she seemed to read his mind. With a small smile, she turned her back to Ren. A quick glance over her shoulder to make sure he was watching.

She dove under the surface, bending at the waist, kicking her legs up.

Yes. Definitely a question of how  _ little _ .

Ren lurched towards the edge of the deck, barely retaining the presence of mind to drop his phone safely on the dry wood. He stood there, trying to quickly unbutton the linen shirt that Ann dressed him up in. Buttons were suddenly very difficult. He gave up, moving to jump in fully clothed.

A pale hand reached up from below, snatching his ankle.

With a surprised yelp and a loud splash, Ann pulled him in.

Sputtering, his head breached the surface. Any further exclamations were cut off by Ann. She kissed him deeply, repeatedly. Still disoriented, all he could do was continue struggling with his clothes while her hands roamed all over him, groping and squeezing playfully.

Together, finally, they accomplished their first important task as a married couple - getting his shirt off.

>>>

The Pacific sunset blazed a trail of molten orange across the western sea. The sky was stained red and magenta as the sun dipped below the horizon. The little villa had a completely unobstructed view, courtesy of the large picture windows throughout the modern building.

“Beautiful…” Ann murmured, stretching her legs out in the soaker tub. The entire day, from their arrival and impromptu swim (plus fooling around a little) to a private dinner for two on the deck, to this bath before bed, were like something out of a dream.

“Mm. Yeah.” 

Ren’s breath tickled her ear. He was serving as Ann’s backrest in the bath, his legs stretched out on either side of hers, his arms were comfortably around her waist.

Ann looked at his reflection in the window, laughing softly. “You’re not even  _ looking _ at the sunset, Ren— Ah!”

She gasped - his hands certainly weren’t on her waist anymore. She sighed as his hands - not as rough as they used to be, a byproduct of his new job as a driver - fondled her breasts, slick with the warm bath water. Her eyes drifted closed when she felt him kiss her neck before nipping lightly at her earlobe.

“Can you blame me…?”

“I suppose not. But… not here, okay?”

“Why?” His voice was low; his hand slid between her legs. She moaned as he started to stroke and rub, nearly forgetting what she was about to say.

“Nn… Because the bed looks comfortable. Because I don’t want to make a mess in the bathroom…” She turned her head to intercept a kiss meant for her temple. “But mostly because it’s our first time as a married couple…?”

Ren paused, raising an eyebrow. “...what about the airplane, on the way here?”

It would have been a shame to waste the first class cabin.

“...our first time on the ground, then.”

“What about the car on the way to the airport?”

It was their first morning as a married couple. Who  _ wouldn’t  _ want to celebrate?

“Our first time not in a vehicle, then.”

“So the bathroom at the wedding venue—“

...He had looked hot in his tuxedo.

“Ren?”

“Hm?”

“You’re getting in your own way, honey.” Ann kissed him; under the surface of the water she stroked and squeezed his erect cock, drawing a harsh groan. “Carry me?”

He didn’t need any more convincing than that. It really was like a dream. Even more so when after drying off, he just… picked her up, carrying her in the appropriately named bridal carry. Ann clung to him, entirely naked save for the engagement ring and wedding band on her left hand. She felt completely, perfectly safe. Over two years since they fell for each other, he still treated her like something precious, always careful enough—

She shrieked/laughed as he practically threw her the last couple of feet on to the bed. Careful enough, but not so careful that they didn’t have any fun.

She giggled as he followed her. He hovered over her briefly before raining kisses down onto her.

She caught him on the last one. Holding it long, slow, deep. The electric rush she felt from their first kiss was still there, albeit far more nuanced. A nibble of his lip there was teasing. A flick and thrust of her tongue here was a hint of what she wanted to do for him.

Their fingers intertwined while they kissed was love.

_ ‘Well,’  _ she thought as they separated,  _ ‘I suppose all of it’s love, really…’ _

He was always so attentive, even though she could tell how impatient he felt right now. It was in the tension of his hands, the  _ almost _ rough way he kissed at her neck, her breasts. The way his hand stroked and teased her sex, already wet and aching for him. She stopped him before he could trail his lips down her chest and stomach.

Ann smiled at his confusion. She loved it when he went down on her, and he knew it. But this time… she put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him onto his back.

“Ann? What are you… Oh…!”

She smirked slightly and settled her knees on either side of his head, facing his feet. As she carefully leaned forward, lying down on him, she took hold of his cock, taking the swollen head into her mouth. She closed her eyes, her tongue rolling around him, enjoying his quiet curses and groans as she went down on him. She felt his hands on her thighs; he pulled her closer, his face just scant centimetres away from her sex.

She moaned and sighed softly around him in anticipation. She gasped as he thrust his tongue into her, without any of his usual teasing. Her soft sounds turned into muffled high-pitched cries as she continued to suck him off.

Her hips bucked involuntarily in response to the pleasure. Her free hand fisted the sheets of the plush bed. Ann wasn’t a quiet lover by any means; but she did try to keep it reasonable in their Tokyo apartment, and also in their other home in Suzuka City. But here, on a secluded lagoon in the middle of the Pacific, she didn’t have a single reservation in her mind. She pulled back for a moment, her hand pumping him as she cried out helplessly.

With every cry, moan, and scream, she felt him lick, kiss, and suck with ever-increasing urgency. She knew he was telling her that he wanted her wrecked by pleasure, driven to unthinking lust by what he was doing. But it was a double edged sword. He pushed his hips up towards her face - she closed her lips around him again, lashing her tongue against him as she bobbed her head. She could hear  _ and _ feel him groan and growl while eating her out. With a little self-satisfied smile, she could feel him falling apart faster than her.

Apparently, he could tell as well.

Her eyes widened and mind blanked as he shifted slightly, starting to tongue and suck directly on her swollen clit. Her body spasmed and her voice rang out again in a keening cry as she came, roughly thrusting against his mouth. Any concern that she had hurt him vanished when he took hold of her thighs and ass, pulling down, encouraging her to thrust, grind, and rut against him. He didn’t let go even after the peak, instead continuing to settle his thirst, leaving her a quivering mess.

She was vaguely aware of being moved onto her back. He hovered over her again, reaching towards the nightstand. From the look in his eye, she could see that he needed her  _ now _ . Ann felt the same, but she had something different in mind.

She caught his wrist, making him freeze, looking down at her in a mix of surprise and worry. She smiled. So easily, he went from lust and desire to tender concern. She let go of his hand, stroking his face reassuringly.

“I’m fine, Ren. But you know…” She glanced at the nightstand. “...We’re married, so… We don’t really need  _ that _ , do we?”

He looked confused; Ann felt heat rise to her cheeks as she began to think she’d have to spell it out. They had talked about this a few times during the year, and each time, their consensus was not until they were married, and not until their careers were at least mostly sorted out.

His eyes widened. “Wait. You mean…”

Ann smiled as he figured out what she was saying. She nodded. “Mm. I was talking to Makoto at the wedding about it. She said there isn’t ever really a  _ perfect _ time to start a family. But our careers are both fine. We’re married. So…”

He hugged her suddenly, his body as always, a comfortable weight on her. She felt moisture on the skin of her neck, right where his eyes were pressed against her.

“Ren…” Ann murmured, squeezing him back. “Are you that happy?”

“Happy. Scared. Relieved.” He mumbled. “I still can’t believe any of this, Ann. You’ve given me so much, and every day, you keep giving me more… I still find it hard to believe I can be this happy.”

She kissed him - and then sighed and moaned into his mouth, feeling him enter her. He kissed her tenderly until she had taken all of him. For a moment they simply rested against each other, connected. Ann reeled at the feeling; the pleasurable sensation of being  _ filled _ . There was more friction and heat… But the best part was the  _ thought _ of him in her, without even a single barrier between them that stoked her want more than she thought possible.

And this was before he even started to move.

She kept him close, clutched at his shoulders and back of his neck as he thrusted into her, slowly at first. So slowly that he drew frustrated whines and enraptured moans from her delicate throat in equal measure.

“Ah, Ren… Faster. God, it feels so good… Please…” She sobbed, in a tone that she  _ knew _ would push his desire further and further past rational thought.

“Ann…”

His pace increased precipitously. He kissed her hungrily; she returned his fervor in equal measure as they took their pleasure from each other.

He was close. She could feel it in his increasingly erratic rhythm, his sandpaper growls and harsh gasps. She wanted to come with him, be complete with him. She placed her palm flat on his chest, catching his gaze; she pulled away from him. She turned onto her stomach, casting him a wicked little smile over her shoulder.

With a low chuckle, he took hold of her waist, drawing her up so that she rested on her knees and elbows. He hilted himself in her from behind, harder and deeper. She buried her screams into the pillow underneath her, clutching it with her arms. Ann always felt so  _ full _ with him in this position, just on the cusp of pain. Her body tensed, even though this was hardly the first time.

He didn’t move; didn’t push against her just yet.

Instead, he leaned in; kisses feathered against her nape stole her focus; gentle nibbles on her earlobe relaxed her body. She started to cry joyful tears. Not just from the fullness that gradually shifted to a thrumming, vibrating pleasure that filled her, from the top of head to the tips of her toes, but from how even in the throes of his considerable thirst for her, he had stopped. Her husband -  _ her  _ husband - wanted her to feel as good - better - than he did.

“Ren… Ren, I love you. I love you… I love you so much…”

She raised her head, turning back; he kissed her again. He seemed too breathless to say anything back. But he showed her. Showed her in the way he slowly moved again, slowly built the steady pressure. Smoothly transitioned again to fast, and hard, and deep, until the only thing she could think of was him, just him, and the beautiful heart she held in her hands, and how she couldn’t tell where he began and she ended and how she wanted everything,  _ everything _ of him.

“Ann…” He was close. The rasp in his voice told her that.

She swayed and pushed back against him, drawing out another strained growl from her husband. She shimmied her hips enticingly, knowing what it would do to him. “Come inside me, Ren…! Take me…!”

His hands wandered over her body, clutching her hips, gliding forward and groping her breasts as they bounced in time with his movement against her. His hand slid down, rubbing her clit even as he continued to thrust in and out of her.

Her vision turned white as she was pushed over the edge; she felt like every cell in her being was resonating, like her body floating away from her. It felt like they were making love not on the bed, but on the ocean just outside the walls of their enclosure. She squeezed down on him; she cried out again, not bothering to muffle her scream this time as he penetrated her deeply… deepest. She felt every twitch and shudder as he came inside of her, his release filling her completely.

As her senses returned to her, she realized he was panting, his hard muscle somehow completely slack on top of her back. He nuzzled her hair, utterly and completely spent.

She purred and moaned as he pulled out, the feeling causing another little aftershock through her still-humming body. He laid down beside her. She turned onto her side to face him, stifling a little laugh at his blank, wide-eyed expression. He seemed to be staring  _ through _ the ceiling. The driver-turned-mechanic was fit, but he breathed as if he had just run a marathon.

Ann kissed his cheek; she slipped out of bed to clean up a little.

By the time she returned, Ren had recovered at least some of his wits. His arm slipped around her, pulling her against him.

She sighed, her fingers lacing together with his. They both stared out into the distance of the glass doors near the foot of their bed, the ones that opened onto nothing but the crystal water of the lagoon.

“I almost wish we could stay like this forever, Ren. Just you and me.”

“Almost?” He murmured, already starting to fall asleep.

“Well. Soon we won’t be just you and me anymore.”

Ren woke up a little to  _ that _ . “...How could you possibly know that?”

Ann propped herself up a little. She smirked at him. “We’re here for two full weeks, honey. And my bikini today? The one that almost made you jump into the water fully clothed? That was just  _ one _ of the swimsuits I brought with me. What do you think our chances are of  _ not _ expecting someone in nine months?”

“...So, I think we’ll need a bigger apartment in Tokyo. Our house in Suzuka is probably fine, though.”

Ann laughed. She kissed him before settling back down, resting her head on his shoulder. Her eyes drifted shut.

The gently lapping waves and soft breeze outside creating a constant, comforting white noise, even inside their little villa. As she fell asleep, it reminded Ann to never hate rain again - to always remember that these moments of pure bliss, of feeling so safe, so loved, all started with a perfectly timed cloudburst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Reiko’s addition to the epilogue and her role in clearing Ren’s name is a little shout out to a certain line in a certain chapter in Going the Distance. Namely, there is no world that exists where Reiko Takahase doesn’t want Ren Amamiya to be with the one he truly loves.
> 
> I like the idea of loosely connected universes. Depending on if/when you read GtD:XR, there’s actually a few other clues in this fic as to what’ll happen in that fic.
> 
> Happy ShuAnn Week!


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